poingology

Five File Naming Strategies that Kill

2008-03-20T17:50:00.000-05:00

Do you have trouble finding your files? When you find them, are you confused about which is most current? When you visit work folders of co-workers, do you feel like you are in alien territory?

If you answered "yes" to any of the above, chances are great that neither you nor your organization are using a system for naming your files.

The methods you and your organization employ to name files and folders will have a critical impact on productivity. People and companies who use disciplined naming systems enjoy better inter-company communication, far less errors and much faster, easier document retrieval.

What do we communicate with file names?

With good file naming we communicate two main things: order and content.

Order should always be the first element in the filename because when this is successfully employed, it will force files within a folder to display in a natural sequence. So let’s call this first part of the filename the order prefix.

Order prefixes can be numerical such as CO01, CO02, or chronological prefixes such as 2004-06-24.

Beginning your filenames with one of these two strategies will pay big dividends as the documents start to accumulate because in both cases, the documents will display in a logical order when a folder is opened.

Order Prefixes in File Names

Some files already have a built-in order, such as COs (Change Orders) or RFIs (Requests for Information). Another example would be folders containing numbered invoices. In these types of folders we might see the prefix be something like PCO01-, PCO02-. When you view the list of files in Windows Explorer, they will be listed in order.

When using order prefixes, allocate the correct number of characters for the numbering scheme. Lets say you expect to have up to 99 Change Orders. Name the first one CO01, not CO1. Otherwise, your computer might sort PCO10 before PCO1.

Let’s say you have to re-issue CO04 a number of times and you want to retain the history of the changes. In that situation, call the first revision PCO04a, and the next PCO04b to keep the sorting order intact.

Chronological Prefixes

Notice that the example of chronological ordering above begins with the year, then the month and finally the day. With this simple method, whatever date you use, the files will sort chronologically with most recent at the bottom of the list.

When chronological ordering is most appropriate, we advocates the use of a six-digit date prefix: YYMMDD-. Example: March 19, 2008 would be 080319 followed by a hyphen. This saves characters and keystrokes, but is only appropriate when dates are no earlier than the year 2000.

A document dated 990203 (2/3/1999) would drop to the bottom of the list in a mini version of the once feared Y2K problem. If you are naming files with dates earlier than 2000, you will have to spend the two extra characters and name the year 1988 instead of 88 when using any of the chronological formats.

Conveying Content – Part 1

Once you have structured the prefix of the filename to force the ordering you desire, your next task is to convey a glimpse of the file’s content. This will save much time later when trying to find a particular document. Your folder structure may already contain much information. In the example below, the file

040602-PurchaseOrder.doc has a full path as follows:

C:\My Documents\Projects\Smith\Widgets\Cost\040602-PurchaseOrder.doc

This path already tells you much about the document. If your file will always remain in that folder, the above filename can be fine.

Ramifications of Sending Files

What happens if you wish to email the document to the accounting department as an attachment? In the above example, they would see this filename:

040602-PurchaseOrder.doc

They see the date and know it is a purchase order, but for what?

Would it help accounting to have more content in the filename? Would their process be easier if they knew more about the purchase order before opening it? The answer to both questions is obviously, yes.

But sending such a bland filename could actually be hazardous. It is not unique enough and could be erased if accounting then receives the same filename from a different worker. That could cost real dollars.

Another hazard: What if accounting modified your document and emailed it back to you? Would you easily know where to refile it? Would you file it properly? Would you know later which document was your original and which was the revised one? Expensive confusion looms on the horizon.

A simple remedy would be to add at least one additional piece of information in the file name. Instead of

040602-PurchaseOrder.doc

why not use:

040602-PO-Job-vendor.doc

Notice that "Purchase Order" is abbreviated to "PO". A few characters representing the job adds key information. Adding a few characters for the vendor makes understanding what the document is all about, a slam dunk. In our proposed example, there are only a few more keystrokes, but there is a world of more information.

Conveying Content – Part 2

Once we have learned to place ordering prefixes and locators in filenames, we then wish to add text which communicates content. One challenge of this is a limitation on the number of characters we can reasonably use. Practically speaking we should try to hold filenames to about 18-28 characters. If 12 characters are used for ordering, locators and hyphens, we now have 6-16 characters to convey meaning.

To do this, first, avoid placing spaces between words. Instead use capital letters at the beginning of each word and small letters for the balance of the word. Run them all together. This will save space, be reasonably legible, and can be accurately transmitted via FTP links (more on this later).

The next concept is to establish abbreviations commonly used in your office. Examples:

Let (Letter)
PO (Purchase Order)
Inv (Invoice)
Deliv (Delivery
Mod (Modification)

So a filename would look like this: 040921-FTWP-Let-LateDeliv

What Symbols and Characters can be used in File Names?

The following characters (although we do not recommend having a lot of different funky characters in your file names and strongly suggest for visual unity that the hyphen is predominately used), the following symbols can be used in file names without getting rejected by your computer:

Hyphen ( - )
Underline ( _ )
Comma ( , )
Semi-Colon ( ; )
Ampersand ( & )

And the follow characters can NOT be used in file names:

Front Slash ( \ )
Back Slash ( / )
Colon ( : )
Question Mark ( ? )
Asterisk ( * )
Quotation Mark ( “ )
Left Bracket ( [ )
Right Bracket ( ] )
Vertical Line ( | )

Also, avoid having spaces in your file names. In the event of attempting to FTP these files there will probably be an error.

Check out my:

FREE Email Tickler Reminder System,

Screen Grabber Software,

File Finder & Program Launcher Shortcut Software,

Convert Documents to PDF or JPG and Email FAST,

Send Files with Download Links in Your Email,

Smart Articles to Keep You Productive in Your Business, and

Best Webmaster Resources to Increase Your Presence on the Web, all at

www.Poingo.com

Green Electric Salsa Jar Wins $2500 1st Place

2008-02-09T07:06:00.000-06:00

KVELL (yiddish): To beam with pride and pleasure. Parents are prone to kvell over their children's achievements.

That's what I have been doing lately.

Like most parents, I pretty much have a kvell-circuit running at all times for my great kids Yael and Matt. They are really cool, unique people.

But this event has not only amped up the kvell-machine, but is giving me a real kick and a good laugh besides.

You see, Matt, a junior at Washington University studying electrical engineering, and his friend Zach Dwiel (also from Wash U) entered a contest sponsored by Core77 Industrial Design and Greener Gadgets.

The mission: "To design a "greener gadget"; to create innovative solutions addressing the issues of energy, carbon footprint, health and toxicity, new materials, product lifecycle, and social development."

That high-sounding verbiage did not deter Matt and Zach from applying not only their considerable technical expertise and concern for the environment, but also their unremitting senses of humor to the challenge.

Their creation captured the imaginations of judges and attendeees alike, assembled in New York in February 2008 as a part of the Greener Gadgets Conference. In the words of the Core 77 site:

The design competition engaged established design firms, emerging designers, design students and design enthusiasts, and top entries were showcased live at the Greener Gadgets Conference by a distinguished panel and the audience. (There were 2 rounds of rigorous pre-judging prior to the live event.) Panelists were Valerie Casey (founder of The Designers Accord and Global Practice Head, Software Experiences at IDEO), Ryan Block (editor-in-chief of Engadget), and Jill Fehrenbacher (publisher of Inhabitat and coordinator of GreenerGadgets).

The First Place Winner: EnerJar by Matt Meshulam and Zach Dwiel

This ungainly contraption is a do-it-yourself power meter. It measures the power consumption of any appliance you can plug into a wall. Here we see it measuring the power draw of a laptop:

The judges are to be complimented for seeing the radiant beauty in that funny-looking beast. Other entries were clever and many were wonderfully rendered. But Matt and Zach's invention was real. It actually worked.

And here's the beauty: The EnerJar is made of recycled material! The jar once held salsa for a brief time before its destined trip to the landfill. The power supply came is an old cell phone charger. Have you ever seen cell phone parts reused? Imagine how many used cell phones there are out there, clogging Earth's arteries.

But in addition to this incredibly practical aspect, the EnerJar teaches you about how you are using energy in a real, tactile way. First you build it in an Earth-friendly way, then you use it to learn about yourself and your impact on our world.

To bring the philosophy full circle, Matt and Zach have created a website www.EnerJar.net where they post a schematic drawing for free. Here is what it looks like:

Please visit www.EnerJar.net and take a look around. There is a parts list, a nice explanation of the hardware and software involved, and a place to comment. You might have an idea of similar brilliance that you can post there for the involvement of similarly enlightened people. This can be the spark of a new movement. This is a worthwhile visit. These are great ideas. But then again, I am kvelling.

Greener Gadgets Design Competition Video

Greener Gadgets Design Competition Results

Sammy Zeltser's Wish

2008-01-16T21:33:00.000-06:00

This is the story of our friends Alex, Hannah Gelena and Sammy Zeltser, reprinted with permission from their excellent website www.sammyzeltserswish.org

If you are able in any way, please help.

To many friends who frequent the Zeltzers' hospitable home, introducing Sammy, the kindest and the wittiest kid, would be superfluous. Knowing that thousands of concerned people will visit this website and will want to help out both the family and the Foundation, we thought it was important that you all "meet" our hero. He is a hero for stoically dealing with and adjusting to his new debilitating condition, giving warmth and hope to distraught family, and uniting all kinds of people.
Please meet our precious Sammy, before and now.

Before

Sammy was born a perfectly healthy kid 7 years ago to a Russian immigrant parents Alex and Gelena. He is the youngest child in a family and has 2 loving sisters, Eva and Marina and a big brother, Michael

Known for his sharp tongue and a witty mind, he's always kept his teachers and parents on a tip of their toes. Sammy is an excellent reader and speller, very curious, loves swimming, playing Wii, and going to Sunday school learning Hebrew and about Jewish traditions.

He expresses himself with the skill that many adults would covet. Sam is loving and giving boy and emanates warmth to all around him. His presence is comforting to all and he acts as a concerned protector of the nature and defender of the weak.

Always happy, gentle and full of positive energy, Sam plays a peacemaker and a diplomat in a family. He is a big time hugger, loves his parents, brother, sisters and grandparents and is not shy to kiss them all and to remind how much he loves them.

Something unusual started happening to the flawless Sammy a year and a half ago. To everyone's surprise, he became forgetful and easily distracted during school. Sam's doctor diagnosed him with ADHD - attention deficit disorder and started treating him with psychotropic stimulants.

With no visible improvements in his concentration, Sam started exhibiting other disturbing behaviors - seclusion, silence, and a slowing physical activity. He continued to be on ADHD medications. After sounding an alarm from teachers and parents that his condition is worsening, Sam was taken off the drugs at which point severe neurological change was hard to miss. Desperately seeking second opinion about Sam's condition, he was brought to a new pediatrician who immediately scheduled emergency EEG, MRI and specific blood tests.

After undergoing MRI at Evanston Northwestern Hospital, Sam was rushed to Childrenss Memorial Hospital due to life-threatening deteriorating condition found in his MRI scan. It was confirmed that Sammy is suffering from a genetic disorder, adrenoleukodystrophy.

Sam's parents and the friends of the Sammy's Wish Foundation felt it was important, for two reasons, to describe what Sammy is going through as his illness is progressing and a race to save his life is on. First, if more people internalize how dangerous and crippling this disorder is, the more awareness will be spread and the more tragedies like this could be prevented. Second, it is important that all the well-wishers have an honest picture of what Sammy and his family are going through. Naturally, we hope to share good news soon!

Now

Sammy is still very loving and kind, but it is difficult for him to express it verbally. His speech is now somewhat slurred and voice very quiet. Instead of talking, he expresses himself by using his finger to draw images or letters in the air. He likes to touch-feel people to give positive energy.

He has stiffness in his legs and it is increasingly difficult for him to walk without having to lean on someone and limping. It seems that he continuously feels off-balance: he prefers to sit or lay on the floor and when he stands he either grasps for the air with his hands or has to hold on to people or subjects to stay erect. It is even difficult for him to sit in a chair for a short time - he slides down.

Sammy got burned recently on the stove, resulting in big blister which would ordinarily hurt a lot. Not a thing, he did not even react to the burn or the wound: a symptom of sensory neuropathy.

Sammy often closes his eyes tightly as if he is having a seizure and says he's had a "brain freeze" or "my brain is about to explode." He has an insatiable appetite as if the body is always hungry and does not know it just got a lot of food. He drools, his energy level is very low, he stopped reading books and even playing Wii games. He forgot the songs that he and his Grandma Lena had always been singing in her car.

He does not like to visit doctors but cooperates bravely. Seeing nurse with the needle, he cries "I do not want to give blood." Yet he is voluntarily rolling up his sleeves. He gives hugs to nurses, doctors and technicians. He is kind and a gentle hero.

Despite all the changes in his body he must be feeling, Sammy is brave and full of positive energy. He gives us hope and strength by giving us his piece of mind that is way beyond his age. This conversation took place just before midnight on New Year's Eve, 2008:

Sammy: Mommy, God is giving me directions and I have to follow them.
Mom: Ok. How do you get these directions?
Sammy: I talk to God
Mom: Where is HE? Do you hear HIM?
Sammy: Yes, He is up there [pointing to the sky]
Mom: So, how does He talk to you?
Sammy: He tells me what I need to do NEXT and I have to do it!
Mom: Wow, you are special boy and do you know how much I love you?
Sammy: Yes, I know, but no kisses for you tonight.
Mom: Why not?
Sammy: You cry too much. Sweet dreams.

The Zeltsers have agreed to take a chance and subject Sammy to bone marrow transplant, the most realistic and only option at this stage. The lab results from Children's Memorial Hospital confirmed that one family member appears to be a match for Sammy.

Beginning February, 2008, the Zeltsers will be very busy taking necessary steps to prepare Sammy for aggressive chemotherapy treatment to be followed immediately with the bone marrow transplant procedure. G-d willing, transplant is successful, we should be out of the Children's Memorial hospital and home free in the next seven to eight months.

We ask every concerned person to BELIEVE in our success and MIRACLE will happen.

If you wish to support the Zeltser Family and /or Sammy's Wish Foundation, please read How Can I Help?

"Oops... I'm off balance again... Mommy, we have to fix this..."

- Sammy Zeltser

Spherical Knowledge

2008-01-05T20:01:00.001-06:00

My son Matt, back home for winter break, is a junior at Washington University studying electrical engineering. For the first time, I heard from him a seed of discontent. Why? The school, he feels, is not preparing him for a job when he graduates.

The coursework is so theoretical that is seems to be missing an essential link, between the practical and the theoretical. How to apply this knowledge? It doesn't seem within the curriculum.

This got me thinking about my graduate school days at the Jane Addams Graduate School of Social Work, at the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana. I too, was disgruntled.

I remember complaining bitterly to a professor who had become a friend, that there seemed to be precious little actual practice in the art of working with people in therapeutic and service-delivering situations. I was intensely interested in "group work" the discipline of creating forward movement in groups of people, whether in a work, therapy or self-help environment. The only way to gain skills in this field is to actually do it.

My professor's answer, "This isn't a trade school. This is academia."

I guess, in the minds of those who design "higher learning," the institution provides a theoretical framework, and the work place provides the practice. If this is more universally true, I can imagine scores of disappointed college students, who dream of being prepared for and capable of performing well in their first big job, yet feel the embarrassment of unpreparedness when the big day comes.

My comment to Matt: Maybe, in a way, you are being prepared for the real world. If you feel that you need something to round out your education, you need to expend real effort and pursue it. The outside world does not cater to your every need, why should the university? If you want something, go out and get it.

I was happy to hear that he was able to structure his next semester by getting more involved in hands-on experiences, just the way I also learned to cope in social work school so many years ago. I managed to find real-life practical experiences within the academic environment, and now so was Matt.

This started me on my next academic sore spot. I remember numerous times in school where the teacher seemed to jump to point #2 without even acknowledging that a predecessor point #1 existed. I remembering this occurring to me in biology, Latin, calculus, algebra 2, and computer science. These are the ones I remember. I am sure there were more.

When I shared this feeling with Matt, he said he shared some of the same experiences. At school, theories of electrical signal propagation were cast out without a foundation or unifying principals. Ok, I get the formula, he said, but how does it all fit together?

I expressed my wish that "first things should be taught first". Whoever writes these curricula, I said, should always remember to teach the foundation first then build upon that foundation.

Matt agreed, but then took it farther, into a realm I love known as Matt's brain, where recursion and inversion are folded and unfolded playfully like an origami flower.

He said, "The subject is a set of variations on the same formula. Sometimes energy is the variable. Sometimes time is the variable. There is no start. There is no end. It is like a sphere."

"Maybe the best way to learn is to first fly around the sphere and see the big picture, then dive inside the sphere and look out from within." He cast that pearl out while casually munching on a piece of chili omelet.

After pondering that one, also chewing on an identical chili omelet, I said the only thing which seemed appropriate, given the circumstances. "Arf", I said.

Gifts and Bribes in Business

2007-12-22T14:38:00.000-06:00

The holidays are a time of gift-giving, and this occurs in the business world every bit as much as within the family nest. But when does gift-giving become bribery?

This became a topic last week at my company, where our kitchen was piled high with goodies sent in from vendors large and small.

Our consensus was that a tray of edibles was a safe gift. Nobody felt that a gift of popcorn, chocolates, nuts and fruit skewed our ability to make decisions in the best interest of the company.

However, some of us who make substantial purchases as a part of our jobs have encountered the occasional vendor who either sends boxes of steaks or lobster tails to our homes, or pointedly asks, "what would you like for yourself?"

Another approach we have heard is, "I am going on a fishing trip to Alaska, would you like me to save you a space?"

All in our company agreed that the steaks and lobsters were ok but "on the edge", and the Alaska trip was a definite no-no. For our business, a gift of up to $150.00 could be justified where a substantial business relationship exists. A thank you for current business is ok. A large gift which is more of an inducement for new business is not.

Geographical Bribery

I believe the centrality of bribery in business varies geographically. Our location, Chicago, is in the Midwestern heartland, arguably the region with most hard working, straight-laced values in the world, politics notwithstanding. As a group, we also carry with us a fear of having our picture on the front page some day, so we tend to be restrained when it comes to the inordinate greasing of palms.

Other places in the world consider bribery to be as much a part of business as the actual performance of work or the providing of services. Bribery is embedded in the speech and psychology of many countries. The Arabs call it "baksheesh", the Chinese say "guanxi", Russians call it "dat vziatku" and the Latin world uses "delitos de cohecho".

No matter what the term, the meaning is clear. Business is awarded to vendors based upon the size of their "gifts" rather than the price or value of that which they are selling. Favors are exchanged in a "black market" which is separate from the visible, official transaction.

Students of human nature and history might see a historical perspective. In feudal times, power was concentrated in the hands of few, based upon their wealth and ancestry. They organized society in a way that benefited them most. They owned the land and allowed peasants to farm it, but for a price. The price was free labor, harvested food, livestock or money. Thus the entitled one extracted tribute from the underling.

In a modern-day bribe, the powerful one is the one capable of awarding contracts or
favorable contractual terms. The underling offers the goods or service, but also gives something extra to the overlord.

It takes two parties to produce a bribery transaction. One who is willing and able to give, and one who is willing and able to take. When they enter into this deal, they each give up something, too. Both give up their integrity. The taker gives up some power to the briber, who now has "something on" the taker. The taker also assumes a big risk of discovery.

When I see buyers appear to select an unqualified vendor for contract award, I can't help but think that large gifts might have changed hands. Maybe such gifts are a great equalizer. They help the underqualified get work. Affirmative action for the capabilities-and-ethics impaired.

Check out my:

FREE Email Tickler Reminder System,

Screen Grab Software,

File Finder & Program Launcher Software,

Convert Documents to PDF and Email it FAST,

Send Large Files Using Links in Your Email,

Smart Articles to Keep You Productive in Business, and

Best Webmaster Resources to Build Your Presence on the Web, all at

www.Poingo.com

Why We Create

2007-12-15T13:00:00.000-06:00

Why do we create?

Creative people, whether they are writers, painters or inventors will tell you that they feel a need or drive to create. They feel satisfaction from having created.

They will also tell you that they are gratified when others appreciate their creation, but that gratification is secondary.

Civilization progresses almost solely due to the actions of creative beings, most of whom have gone unrecognized.

Most creations are driven by need. Those whose creations yielded enhanced survivability survived better and endured to create creative progeny.

Many creations are not useful or successful. But without failures, and the repeated trying of new ideas, there could be no successes.

Most people posses a kernel of some kind of creativity. After all, we are the progeny of ancestors who were creative enough to survive. But in addition to our inherent creativity, I believe that creativity can be sparked, nurtured and enhanced.

Developing Your Creativity

Start with area which is a natural fit for your experiences and interests. Creative actions start somewhere. What is in you? What idea fires up your mind?

Think about where you can take your kernel of an idea. You can think of these thought-directions as horizontal or vertical.

A vertical development takes a specific idea and develops on top of it - making the direction more specific, focused, detailed and specialized.

A horizontal development would involve a broadening of the idea to related or distant ideas, finding an unexpected yet unifying connection.

Experiential Exercises to Develop Creativity

There are creativity exercises which can really help develop new creative neural pathways.

For visual & graphical development, my favorite exercise is looking at "negative space." Sit down outside near some trees. As you gaze at the trees, try to see the spaces between the trees as the focal object. Allow the trees to recede as background. The pieces of sky you see around and among the trees will assume a life, shape and beauty you may have never seen before.

CAUTION: Can Be Psychedelic!

The Importance of Doing It

One of the most important parts of creative development is in the actual doing. Thinking is not enough. You must do physically do something with your hands. Draw, write, touch, shape, carry... do! Doing is interactive. When you do something, your action gives you information and experience in return. You must get this feedback loop going. You will be surprised at the enrichment of your creative process.

Use Writing as a Tool to Develop Creative Thinking

To develop ideas or writing, carry a small notepad (I use the memo pad feature on my phone) at all times. When you have an interesting idea, thought, conversation or experience, jot it down immediately. Make sure you write the part about how you felt or were impacted. This experience is an essence you will want to preserve.

In a variation of the negative space exercise, run a circuit in your brain called "the observer". The "observer" watches you in your daily life. He (or she) looks for humor, drama, patterns or themes.

Of course, jot down what the observer notices.

Developing creative thought and creating new things can be a real life-enhancer. The truest rewards come from within. You can create at any age, with any education and any set of capabilities. You owe it to yourself to continue to blossom. You just might invent the next Velcro!

How to Keep Track of Passwords

2007-11-10T09:11:00.000-06:00

A universal challenge for all of us in the techno-age: How to keep track of passwords?

A common solution is to use the password tracking features in our browsers. These work great until the browser gets attacked and your secrets get spilled across the Internet, or your browser gets infected and must be reinstalled.

A low-tech/high tech solution is to simply create a spreadsheet to keep track of passwords. This simple spreadsheet will have five columns: Name of the resource, URL (web address), Username, Password and Notes.

A few years ago I started to accumulate and keep track of what has grown to a surprisingly large list of passwords. With my "password tracking spreadsheet", I have sorted passwords by category and have used the tabbed worksheets for even better password tracking.

The beauty of using a spreadsheet to keep track of passwords is that you can also add notes to the spreadsheet, such as expiration dates, prices, and hints on how best to use the site.

The problem with using a spreadsheet to track passwords is the need to find and open the password file each time you need it.
This is where Lightning Navigator comes in.
It is a handy little seven buck utility which can associate any file with a three-key shortcut. The first two keys are always "control + alt", so you only need to remember one key, which you select. I selected "P" for the file where I keep track of passwords.

Lightning Navigator runs in the background awaiting your command. Need a password? Press the keys "control + alt + P" all at the same time. Immediately your spreadsheet software launches with your password tracking file loaded displayed.

I have expanded the use of my "password tracking spreadsheet" to also include other stray bits of information which seem to come up along the way. My "password tracking spreadsheet" has tabs for favorite websites where I syndicate articles, affiliate relationships, my favorite information resources, travel sites, google resources, financial sites I use, and FTP access for my web servers.

This little trick is guaranteed to keep you and your passwords on track!

Techno-Warp 4.0 - The Vicious Cycle

2007-10-10T22:35:00.000-05:00

Are You in a Techno-Warp?
Chapter 4.0
The Vicious Cycle

4.1 Richard Greenwood

In kindergarten I met a five year old boy who was to become a life-long soul mate in our mutual love of gizmos and gadgets. The great thing about Richard Greenwood was that he was adventurous. Speed and adrenalin were mothers-milk to him.

I was content to build and occasionally launch our model rockets. He wanted to ride in them. He wanted to be an astronaut and eventually became an aeronautical engineer. He has sky dived over 1000 times. When not working on jet engines and jumping out of airplanes, he scuba dives, motorcycles and flies his own airplane.

Some of his thrill seeking inevitably rubbed off on me. How could I remain unaffected when I was the one he asked to throw the small cargo parachute into the air as he, holding the cords in one hand, jumped off of my parents’ porch? Not to worry, he survived. But in his zeal to get the chute inflated quickly, he pulled down so hard on the cords that he managed to land thumb first and broke his thumb.

How could I remain a quiet, bookish gearhead when Rich somehow acquired a seemingly endless succession of go-carts, dirt bikes and motorcycles?

My parents were horrified by all of this. They viewed “motorcycle” as a swear word and thought anyone who had one was a suicidal hillbilly. This is why I had to tread lightly when, during my sophomore year of college I decided to take the plunge and get a motorcycle for myself.

4.2 My First Motorcycle

My strategy was to go slowly so my parents could become accustomed to the idea. I had the brainstorm of getting a Trike, a three-wheeled Harley, the kind used by traffic police. I knew that in my mother’s eyes, three wheels would appear much safer than two. (The opposite is true. They tip over easier because they can’t lean into turns.)

In a further strategic move, I decided to buy it in pieces and assemble it myself. Then, my parents would have plenty of time to get accustomed to the idea. How could they refuse me a motorcycle I built with my own hands?

Rich and I found just such a “basket-case” in a local paper and bought what was basically a pile of junk for $150.

Three wheelers look like a motorcycle from the seat forward, but behind the rider is a big box with wheels and fenders on each side and a lid on the top. In my new acquisition, the dismantled engine parts, front wheel, front forks and gas tanks were all piled in that box in no particular order. We borrowed a truck to get it home, rented a garage for $15 a month, and settled down to the task of assembling 300 greasy metal pieces together into a real working vehicle.

In retrospect, I cannot fathom our chutzpah. Why did we think we could do it? After all, we weren’t mechanics. Yes, we did take one semester of Auto Shop at Lane Tech. Yes, as a child my dad and I built a plastic “Visible V8 Engine” model from a kit. But this was a whole new level! We didn’t even have an instruction manual!

At nights after school in our dimly lighted garage we took turns holding parts up to the light and saying things like “I think this is from the transmission” with the other one saying “No, it looks more like it is from the carburetor”.

As the puzzle slowly came together, we would discover that we were missing key parts and would then scour the phone book for places we could find pieces for an old discontinued Harley “45 flathead" engine. We traveled to a barn near the Wisconsin border for a crankcase cover and a specialty shop on Chicago’s South Side for clutch pads.

We eventually found Ken Lively, a grizzly biker who we revered as the definitive expert in “flathead” engines. He helped with honing the cylinders and fitting the piston rings.

I learned biker lingo and could throw around terms like “hardtail”, “suicide clutch”, “chopper”, “springer front end”, “flame job”, “cams”, lifters” and much more. We talked cars, too. “hemis”, “fuel injection”, “nitro methane”, “burning rubber”, “brake torquing” and "power shifting" were our fixations.

Rich was at the center of all of this. He had a black ‘61 Ford Falcon with the rear end jacked up so high we had to avoid certain overpasses. We listened to eight-track tapes of the Doors in it, dimly recognizable over the deafness-inducing blumberings of his “glasspack” mufflers.

Rich’s never-say-die attitude kept my spirits high even when the job seemed too much to handle. He always seemed to come up with a solution, however crude, to whatever mechanical problem we encountered. He was my driving force in the odyssey of building my chariot.

Rich worked with me almost every night, then at about 2AM we would go, completely filthy, to a local all night restaurant. We drank coffee and smoked cigars, our hands blackened with grease. Sitting there in those vinyl and chrome booths we somehow managed to feel like kings, on top of our world.

So I am at a loss to explain what might have posessed me to take my first ride without Rich. One night near the end of the summer, it was well past midnight. Rich couldn’t come that night, which was pretty rare. I suddenly realized that I was done. There were no more parts to install. Everything was “hooked-up”. The fuel lines, drive chain and brake cables were the last things to go and there I was....finished.

4.3 The First Ride

I had been so absorbed in the building process for so long, that I actually lost sight of the idea of riding the contraption! I was shocked and terrified. I had never ridden a motorcycle before!

I sat on a greasy milk crate for a long time, debating with myself under the one naked light bulb in the otherwise dark and quiet garage.

“Well, you’re done.”
“Yep.”
“It’s been a lot of work.”
“Yep.”
“Looks pretty impressive, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Bet it will run if you start it.”
“Yep.”
“Well, go ahead and start it.”
“Nope.”
“Go on! What’s the problem? It can’t tip over, for God’s sake! It’s got three wheels!”
“Uh-huh.”
“You can drive it. Just turn the handgrip to gun the engine. The clutch is a pedal down at your left foot You know where the brakes are. Do it!”
“But Rich isn’t here. What if something goes wrong?”
“What can go wrong? Besides, you don’t need Rich. It’s your bike, not his!”
“But I don’t really like to ride. I just like to build!”
“You’ll like it once you get used to it. Go on. At least sit on it!”
“Okay.”

With a gulp I mounted the steed. I put the key in the lock. I turned it. The headlight went on, an encouraging sign. I put my foot on the kick start pedal. With unspeakable fear I rose up, putting my weight above the pedal. I hovered there as if poised over Niagara Falls in a barrel. I pushed, hard.

Of course, nothing happened. I tried again. And again. I tweaked. I fiddled. I adjusted. I tried again. The engine occasionally sputtered, showing signs of life. A little more futzing and one more kick and
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

The engine was screaming at the top of its exhaust manifolds! It was racing at top speed making a deafening roar in that enclosed little garage. I had forgotten to put on the muffler!

I dove for the ignition key and shut her down. Thank God I had no pre-existing coronary problems! That episode would have put me over the edge! I had to sit for a while and calm down. My body instinctively went into what would later be known as Lamaze breathing.

Then, halfheartedly I tightened the needle valve on the carb to lean out the air-fuel mixture. I loosened the stop on the throttle cable to lower the idling speed. I put the muffler on, hoping for a quiet, unobtrusive little run down the alley.

The adjustments were done quickly and once again there was nothing left to do but check the result. I opened the garage door and pointed her out. This was getting serious! I tried all the grips, pedals and levers to get accustomed to the feel. Then it was time.

I turned the key. I rose up and came down hard on the kick-start pedal. She awoke with a loud roar, blowing past the muffler like it wasn’t there. There was no turning back now. I pressed the clutch, tank-shifted into gear and slowly let the clutch out. The bike lurched forward like a shaky old stagecoach. I turned down the alley and slowly wound out the engine. We gained speed. She sounded noisy but good, the trademark power gargle of the Harley Davidson piercing the night like a sharp crowbar. We upshifted into second. We were cruising! I was riding!

Garage doors, chain link fences and garbage cans whizzed past me a bit too swiftly. The street lay dead ahead. I remembered that I was not street-legal. No plates. I wasn’t ready for the road.

4.5 Disaster Strikes

Impulsively I cut a hard right turn into a parking lot. I felt an unfamiliar rising feeling as my right wheel left the pavement with the force of the turn. I realized that the bike was going to roll over! In desperation I put out my left foot and dragged it hard on the pavement. It worked.

The bike righted itself with a thump. I felt excruciating pain in my foot. I looked down and couldn’t believe my eyes. The left wheel had rolled over my foot, then savagely wrenched it backward to a point, like a ballerina’s.

My foot was painfully lodged between the rotating wheel and the hot muffler. The monster I created was going to drag me off of the seat and grind me into the tarmac. Turbocharged with adrenalin, I managed to wrench my foot from its torture chamber.

The bike was still moving. I made a U-turn and headed back to the alley, aiming between two steel gate posts. BAM! One of my rear fenders hit the post as we careened by. The bike was wider in back than I had realized. I hung on as we screamed down the alley toward the garage. With my hands on the brake levers I made the turn into the garage. Guess what? No brakes!

We rolled over piles of old parts, crates and tool boxes. We crashed head first into the pine shelving on the back wall of the garage. The shelves shattered into a million toothpicks. I was launched over the handlebars and found myself draped on the headlight as the trike finally came to rest.

Slowly I peeled myself off the headlight and crawled out over the rubble. Primally embarassed, I closed the garage door and turned out the light. I sat quietly in the dark for a long time.

The next afternoon I limped back to the garage to survey the damage. Wally, the neighbor from across the alley, stopped by. He had always taken a personal interest in our project.

“Did you start the bike last night?”, he asked.
(Gulp) “Uh, why?” I retorted cunningly.
“Because I heard some noises and I thought it was you,” he answered.
“What did you hear?”
“There was a really loud motorcycle going up and down the alley. Then there was a loud crash. Then there was silence. I thought you killed yourself. So I threw on my clothes and ran out into the alley but there was nothing. No bike, no lights, nobody there, nothing. It was really weird. So I went upstairs and went back to bed. Was it you? Was it?”
“It was me, Wally.”

I told Wally the story, then watched his eyes get big as we looked at the destroyed shelving and a toolbox which was flattened like a piece of paper in the middle but normal at both ends. We looked at the bike. It was relatively unscathed. All Wally could say was “Wow.”

Then I called Rich and gave him the full account. All he could say was, “That’s great, man! That’s really great!”

Check out my:
FREE Email Tickler Reminder System,
Screen Grab Software,
Keyboard Shortcut Software,
Convert Documents to PDF Software,
Download Link Software,
Articles with Attitude,
Best Webmaster Resources,
all at
www.Poingo.com

Techno-Warp 3.0: A Victim of Medical Science

2007-09-29T07:13:00.000-05:00

Are you in a Techno-Warp?
Chapter 3.0
A Victim of Medical Science

It is a good thing that some people want to be in the medical profession. I was encouraged in that direction as a child. My parents gave me a doctor bag and my grandmother sewed me an authentic white doctor coat. I walked around somberly taking temperatures and heart rates of family members. It seemed that my path would lead me to becoming a real MD.

The deal went sour when I realized that in that profession I would be exposed to mucous, vomit, urine, blood and poop, and would be required to handle body parts of unattractive people I didn’t even know.

I get easily grossed out. Three times I have lost my "cookies" after seeing someone else lose theirs. I lost breakfast last week while dragging a smelly garbage can out to the street. I have to stop eating if someone uses a disgusting word such as “ears”, or “feet”. God forbid they should say “nose.”

I view people who spend their days wallowing in biohazards with a mixture of awe, respect and revulsion. I secretly think, “How many body orifices did you visit today? Did you wash your hands before shaking mine? I know you have to be smart to be a doctor, but if you’re so smart, why do you perform proctoscopic exams for a living?”

The complexity involved in medical science can create a teeming incubator for the techno-warp virus, a petri dish for the screwup bacteria.

For instance, it is amazing that anyone comes out of the hospital alive, even visitors. They keep sick people in there, for gosh sakes! What a smart idea: take all the local sick people, infested with a menagerie of invisible cooties, and store these people together in small, closely spaced rooms sharing the same air supply. Then, let the cooties hold a convention so that they can go to post-convention hospitality suites and pair off and create even more disgusting life forms.

I know what you’re thinking: “Let’s not go overboard. Hospitals have strict procedures for controlling the spread of infections and limiting the ability for cooties to hold conventions.” And I say to you:

1. Have you seen the procedure manual? I have. It takes five physical therapists to take it off the shelf.

2. Have you met someone who writes procedure manuals? I have. Forrest Gump was smarter and less boring.

3. Do you know anyone who knows all of the procedures? Of course not. They are unknowable. The task is too great for a human. Which brings me to my last point:

4. They have humans working at these places! Humans, known throughout the animal kingdom as most prone to independent thought. Just what you want in a place which requires procedural meticulousness. Humans! Humans who can’t remember how they tied their shoes from one time to the next: “Was it left loop over right?”

I have been blessed with wonderful health. A moment of sincere thanks here for the Creator. My exposure to the medical world is limited. Nonetheless, each time I get involved with medicine, something seems to happen.

As a high schooler I contracted a form of tonsillitis which was deemed viral, a medical term for “nobody knows how to cure it.” I spent a week in the hospital for observation. This was obviously before “managed care”. During this week I was fed a steady dosage of chewing gum laced with aspirin to relieve my throat pain, which was so considerable that I actually endured the horrendous taste of the gum.

A week after my discharge from the hospital, I discovered to my horror that my stomach was bleeding large volumes of blood due to the aspirin gum and I needed to return to the hospital for treatment for the effects of my previous treatment.

My parents adopted a risk management approach by changing hospitals. They thought it would be better to start fresh with a different place, since the first hospital was obviously negligent in informing us about the dangers of aspirin.

In the car on the way to the hospital, I was dizzy from loss of blood. The walk through the front door was a wobbly lightheaded stumble. I gratefully accepted a wheelchair in Admitting. They wheeled me into an exam room for a blood test.

The nurse drew the first vial, but neglected to remove the tourniquet while switching vials. For a guy who was down a few pints, I managed to shoot quite a stream of precious blood across the room, drenching the length of a white hospital bed in bright red. I knew then that my medical care would be at least as good as at the last place.

Tonsil problems run in the family. My daughter Yael had hers removed at age 8. Of course we used only the BEST hospital with the BEST anesthesiologist and the BEST tonsilologist (I made up that term, but this is how we talk on the North Shore).

In Pre-Op various scrub-clad professionals came out to meet Yael and demonstrate what in-tune child-friendly folks they were. One nurse came out with a pink anesthesia mask and showed it to our cranky, terrified daughter saying, “When the doctor puts this on your face, you will breathe a few times and then fall into a deep pleasant sleep. Try it, it smells like bubblegum!”

You would have had a better chance of putting the mask on a cornered wildcat. Yael ripped it away from her face and tossed it across the room. Her mom Marcy picked it up. Then the cutesy medical group wheeled her off. I think I heard them singing a Barney song on the way while Yael’s head spun like Linda Blair’s during the exorcism.

Marcy and I went to the waiting room, then she remembered that her purse was across the hospital at Admitting, so she left to retrieve it.

Five minutes later, a breathless nurse in full scrubs came running out of the stainless mechanical doors which divide the mysterious world of the “O.R.” from the rest of reality. She ran up to me, eyes wide, near panic. My heart did several Olympic-quality half-gainers.

“Do you have the mask?” She asked urgently.

“Uh, no, I think her mom has it.”

“Where is she?”

“Clear across the hospital getting her purse. I don’t think you should wait for her.”

“But what should we do? She’s got the mask!”

“Why don’t you get another mask? I asked, incapable of believing that only one such mask resided in the entire Mega-Medical-Health-Care-Center-Hospital-Pavilion.

“Get another mask?” She asked incredulously.

“Yes...Get...Another...Mask” I answered slowly, deliberately and firmly, feeling that I needed to do so in order to push thoughts of black robed Cost Control Inquisitors out of her brain and get her back on task.

She turned and scurried off, muttering “Get...another...mask” as if she was figuring out how to scale K-2 without a Sherpa.

My final story involves one of the body’s most private and sensitive areas, and it will be interesting to see if I can tell it without offending your sensitivities.

I developed hemorrhoids. A bad case. Particularly bad because I waited a few extra decades hoping for spontaneous self-cure. Instead, they worsened to the point where I had to have my trousers altered. Standing was uncomfortable. Sitting was a joke. Bicycle riding was out of the question. SAYING the word “bicycle” was out of the question. I was a raw nerve, petrified in fear of the next time nature would call, wondering in my terror if that next time would be the final time, and I would be found days later slumped over on the loo, dead from hemorrhoids.

With enormous reluctance I placed my butt in the care of a trained, degreed hemorrhoidologist who scheduled the dreaded surgery. I arrived on the appointed day, one parent under each trembling arm, donned the Surgical Pajamas of Doom, and was wheeled through mazes of hospital corridors past a Maxwell Smart succession of stainless doors. I was in Pre-Op, exactly in the same parking spot my daughter Yael was to throw her mask two years later.

The nurse gave me an injection “to relax me.” I thought that was a solid idea and began talking myself into thinking it was working. “Yeah man...this is some really good stuff, man. My whole body is lettin’ go, man. It’s real smooth, oh wow, man.”

Then the nurse in charge of clip-board-carrying came to me. In a businesslike manner she said words every hemorrhoid patient fears most:

“You are the double hernia, right?”

My stupor cleared. “What? No! I’m the hemorrhoid!”

She looked at the chart again, puzzled. ”Are you sure you’re not the double hernia?”

I didn’t know which body part to cover first.

In my panic I completely forgot that I had, until now, possessed the full blown identity of an adult, with worlds of experiences and forty six years of history. Instead, a primal survival force emerged from me, blowing away the identity I thought I had and replacing it with the only identity that really mattered.

I half-shouted “I am the hemorrhoid! I am the hemorrhoid!”

And as the injection increased its grasp on my brain function and my words slurred and echoed in my head, and as the cutesy scrub-clad Barney singers came out to wheel me into the cold, equipment-filled O.R., I didn’t know if it was the sound of my words or the sound of my thoughts repeating helplessly, echoing far in the distance,

“I am the hemorrhoid! I am the hemorrhoid! I... Am...The...Hemorrhoid! Coo Coo Ca Choo!”

Techno-Warp 2.0: The Warp is Here, Now!

2007-09-24T21:14:00.000-05:00

Are you in a Techno-Warp?
Chapter 2.0
The Warp is Here, Now!

We, folks of the 2000's, embrace new technology much more readily than we embrace most relatives. We experience technorgasms in electronics superstores. We experience power and control with each new tool-toy, oblivious to the subplot running just below the surface.

Namely, the technology controls us and has its way with us. Our new techno friends encourage our loyalty and dependency. Then, when things are going well, they go on strike or, worse, strike out at us. Their absence leaves us defenseless, like a business that can't issue paychecks without its computer. And due to the incredible power of our machines, we can now make mistakes of unparalleled magnitude, like the computer that deposits $300 million in the janitor's account.

And we, happily pushing one button after another, be it our remote, our electric car windows or our computer keys, tend to "write off" technology glitches as brief but manageable aberrations.

But look closer. How many Techno-Warps happen to you in only one week?

As for myself, last week my refrigerator broke down spoiling all of my food, my cordless phone and computer at work stopped working and are in repair, and the self-sealing tire on my car didn't self-seal causing me a city wide search to find someone who could fix the simple puncture.

(I have gained valuable secret knowledge in that search. If you send $5.00 and a self addressed stamped envelope, I will share this secret knowledge with you in my treatise entitled "Self-Sealing Tires, Self Actualization and You").

Last week I was called by telemarketers for all three major long distance carriers, each with a different mispronunciation of my name.
"Rring!"
"Hello."
(Five second pause with keyboards clattering in the background)
"May I speak with Mr. (three more seconds) Mooshloomum?"
"Close. What do you want?"
"Mr. (two seconds now, we're improving) Mushelgum, I am calling on behalf of the intergalactic monopoly of long distance carriers, ATTMCISprint. Since we really don't compete with anyone, we're calling to simply remind you to make as many long distance calls as possible. And, as a special incentive you are being charged for this call, which originates in Bahrain."
"Click."

Last week I received four solicitations for new and better credit cards, which are so improved that I can't see any difference between them and the ten or so I already carry, except for the fact that I am now...

PRE-APPROVED FOR IMMEDIATE $10,000 LINE OF CREDIT. Just fill out EASY, INSTANT, PRE-APPROVED application form.

As Chico Marx used to say, "Oh no, you notta gonna fool a me again, Firefly! I'm-a too smart to fall-a for dat-a one again!(You really need a bad Italian accent to do this line. Berlitz has a course.)

A few months ago I was thinking of starting a new business. Its confidential, but I will tell you if you don't tell anyone. I was going to corner the market on FAT. I figure it like this. With all the FAT FREE foods out there, there must be a NATIONAL FAT REPOSITORY somewhere just brimming with the stuff, and I was going to corner the market. Then, as increasing hoards of emaciated joggers begin collapsing in the streets I will pump them up with my FAT SUPPLY, and for an extra fee inflate key body parts more than others. Think reverse liposuction.

I estimated I could buy the whole lot for about $30,000, so I sent out three of those EASY, INSTANT, PRE-APPROVED application forms and awaited my startup capital.

Instead, I got three EASY, INSTANT REJECTION FORMS which cited incomprehensible reasons in credit-ese like "Too Many Credit Inquiries" , "Debits Out of Proportion With Crebits", and "Kneebone Connected to Nosebone". They each referred me to Equifax, the World Wide Deadbeat Database.

For the heck of it, I sent for my credit report. From what I could understand, and believe me that wasn't much, I had a slow payment in 1999 and otherwise pretty much singlehandedly kept the economies of my suburb and a few underdeveloped countries humming pretty well. I still don't know what the problem was. Maybe Equifax wanted the FAT REPOSITORY for itself.

By now you can see that I consider participants in Techno-Warpage to include not only the countless gizmos and gadgets we use and play with every day, but also the mega-businesses which employ so much technology that they essentially become colossal computers. Meanwhile each of us becomes a bit of information being "handled".

And yes, Matilda, we are handled by lots of computers. Think of all your accounts; your gas cards, your mortgage, the IRS, the credit agencies, your credit card companies, your bank, your insurance companies, your magazine subscriptions, your phone service and even your grocery store. Those "Preferred Cards" enable the Grocery Matrix to know your every move and purchase.

"Would you care to explain to the ladies and gentlemen of the jury exactly what you intended to do with a WHOLE POUND OF MARGERINE???"

And, with increasing connections between these computers, much of which is already in place in such environments as the Internet, let's face it: Our lives are completely, inseparably merged and surrounded with computers and technology.

The point? Well, these systems work well and deliver loads of goods and services pretty darned efficiently. The downsides? Your privacy simply does not exist. And, when the gizmos get mad, look out.

Are You in a Techno-Warp?

2007-09-15T10:37:00.000-05:00

My eyes opened. The digital display on my clock radio blinked hyphens. Power outage! My watch says I’m late!

Digital displays around the house are blinking like so many eyes in the night, watching me, irritating me. My face starts to twitch in synch with the microwave display. I start coffee. Both faucets on my kitchen sink run hot. I’m in a techno-warp!!

Thank God the shower works! I shave with my Triple Blade Articulating Head Ergonomic Razor. In my haste I give myself a precisely parallel triple cut.

The toaster chokes on my prefab waffles and sets to clattering loudly and jumping around. I hit it with a frozen leg of lamb which is not defrosting on its Miracle Quick Defrost Tray. The toaster quiets down and yields up the factory corrugated waffle product replete with factory-applied browning around the edges, smoking slightly.

The phone rings. My cordless phone beeps rudely in my ear instead of putting the call through. I forgot to charge it. I grab the conventional phone instead and speak, tethered to the wall like a dog, with waffle product rapidly cooling just out of reach.

It’s the office. “Forget to turn your cell on?” asks my perky yet sarcastic secretary. “Your best customer is going nuts looking for you. He says he called your sorry butt ten times and is now going to pay a premium to your competition just to get you.”

I find the black foldo-phone under my bed and strap it to my belt like a modern day techno-gunslinger. I switch to the vibrate setting and it immediately goes into a vibro-siezure. This causes me a brief but intense cardio-incident.

While I recover, I notice the VCR, microwave and clock radio displays blinking more brightly at me. Is it my imagination or are they getting more adamant? “Set us you idiot!! Now!!”

Maybe they are mad about my bludgeoning the toaster and are looking for revenge.

“Don’t be mad at me!” I silently plead to the three Chinese black plastic boxes with bootlegged American microchips. “It was the toaster’s fault! Not mine! My waffle product was within spec! The toaster’s next scheduled failure is at least two months from now!”

They continue to blink, enjoying my discomfort now. Machines love it when you’re down. That’s when they really get creative. And now they’re pissed! I’m a walking target, a marked man. As if it would help, I slowly and cautiously move through the house unplugging things while talking sweetly.

“Micro honey, looking good today. Hey, gotta clean up your revolving plate, it’s getting a little crumbly. You had to work so hard at dinner last night. I’ll just unplug you so you won’t get hurt when I clean you...” (Unplug) “Now, Mr. Answering Machine...”

I quickly dress and depart, being careful to avoid the elevator. I hope like hell the car hasn’t found about this.

Manage Tasks, Projects & Life with Email

2007-02-17T11:27:00.000-06:00

Data Smog: Newest Culprit in Brain Drain
By Bridget Murray
American Psychological Association Monitor

"Psychologists are beginning to study the impact that information overload is having on our lives.
Welcome to the jumble—the dizzying information glut of the late 20th century. Information has never been as easy to access—or as distracting. But what is this surge of stimuli doing to our well-being?

According to some psychologists and researchers, the “data smog” that bombards us every day may be making us ill by interfering with our sleep, sabotaging our concentration and undermining our immune systems. David Lewis, PhD, a British psychologist, calls the malady “information fatigue syndrome.”

“Our brains aren’t wired to ‘multitask’ the way our computers are,” says psychologist Larry Rosen, PhD, a human-computer dynamics expert and psychology professor at California State University–Dominguez Hills. “We’re taxing the limits of our human abilities.”

Crazy Busy: Overstretched, Overbooked, and About to Snap!
Strategies for Coping in a World Gone ADD
Edward M. Hallowell, M.D. (Ballantine Books)

CrazyBusy – the modern phenomenon of brain overload – is a national epidemic.

Are you too busy? Are you always running behind? Is your calendar loaded with more than you can possibly accomplish? Is it driving you crazy? You’re not alone. CrazyBusy–the modern phenomenon of brain overload–is a national epidemic. Without intending it or understanding how it happened, we’ve plunged ourselves into a mad rush of activity, expecting our brains to keep track of more than they comfortably or effectively can.

CrazyBusy is not just a by-product of high-speed, globalized modern life–it has become its defining feature. BlackBerries, cell phones, and e-mail 24/7. Longer work days, escalating demands, and higher expectations at home. It all adds up to a state of constant frenzy that is sapping us of creativity, humanity, mental well-being, and the ability to focus on what truly matters.

In fact, as Attention Deficit Disorder expert and bestselling author Edward M. Hallowell, M.D., argues in this groundbreaking book, brain overload has reached the point where our entire society is suffering from culturally induced Attention Deficit Disorder.

Parsing the Problem

Email has become the universal funnel. Due to its ease and utility, that funnel has become quite filled. The problem is no longer the supply or availability of information. Now the question is… what to do with it?

The missing link: management of tasks flowing through the email stream.

Email Overload: Exploring Personal Information Management of Email
Steve Whittaker and Candace Sidner
Lotus Development Corp.

"Email is one of the most successful computer applications yet devised. Our empirical data show however, that although email was originally designed as a communications application, it is now being used for additional functions that it was not designed for, such as task management and personal archiving. We call this email overload. We demonstrate that email overload creates problems for personal information management.

“Research has not yet addressed how people organize and manage large amounts of information”

“Email has evolved to a point where it is now used for multiple purposes: document delivery and archiving; work task delegation; and task tracking.”

“Task management requires users to ensure that information relating to current tasks is readily available. This both preserves task context and allows users to determine the progress of ongoing tasks. Task management also involves reminding oneself about when particular tasks or actions have to be executed. How do people do this in email?”

Why do these problems arise? A simple one-touch model of email might assume: incoming messages that are informational, i.e. those not requiring a response, are read, and then either deleted or filed, depending on their relevance.

Our quantitative data show the one touch model is patently incorrect.

“Why is the inbox so full? It turns out that there are two related reasons for this:

(a) the inbox operates as a task manager, where people are reminded of current tasks, and where people can keep information relevant to those tasks accessible

(b) people find it hard to file information to remove it from their inbox, both because filing into folders is difficult and there may also be few benefits to creating folders.

Redesigning email to fit its functions

There are both design and theoretical implications to these results.

Although email was originally designed for asynchronous communication, the application is actually being used for multiple functions. Email therefore needs to be redesigned to support filing and task management as well as asynchronous communication.

We have shown that the inbox is often used as a place for incomplete tasks, unfiled information and ongoing conversations. In all these cases, users preserve working information in the inbox both to keep it available and as a reminder that further actions are required.

Taskmaster: Recasting Email as Task Management
Victoria Bellerotti, Nicholas Ducheneaut, Mark Howard, Ian Smith
Palo Alto Research Center

“We identified seven specific problems that participants in our studies experience with task management in email:

1. Keeping track of lots of concurrent actions: One’s own to-dos and to-dos one expects from others.

2. Marking things as important or outstanding amongst the less important items.

3. Managing activity extending over time or keeping track of threads of activity and discussions.

4. Managing deadlines and reminders, which may be associated with particular messages or other content.

5. Collating related items (e.g., an extended thread or responses to a survey) and associated files and links.

6. Application switching and window management.

7. Most importantly, getting a task-oriented overview at a glance, rather than scrolling around and inspecting folders.

CONCLUSION

Our research shows that it is possible to significantly and positively affect email users’ experience by embedding task management resources directly in the inbox, where they are most needed. “

A simple, powerful, universal solution: The Poingo Bounceback Server

The Poingo Bounceback Server simply returns a copy of any email you send, back to you at the time interval you specify.

For example, if you send, copy, or blind copy your email to 1d@poingo.com, that email will return to you in one day (1d). It works also for weekly and monthly intervals (1w@poingo.com and 1m@poingo.com, for example). Intervals up to 1 year are supported.

Address, copy, or bcc (blind copy) your email to interval@poingo.com
Your email will bounce back to you at that interval
This example shows an interval of 10 days (10d)

Users are essentially entering their email into a virtual tickler system with only a couple of keystrokes. This enables the user to easily manage hundreds of business or personal transactions, programming each for customized follow-ups, completely within their workflow, with negligible additional work.

The Poingo Bounceback Server allows the user complete control over the customization of each follow-up program.

Users find their “bounced-back” emails in their inbox the morning of the day it was requested, allowing them to stay current with all tasks requiring action on that day, whether days, weeks or months later. When they execute the desired follow-up, they often elect to send a copy again to the Bounceback Server for continued tracking.

Daily reminders in your inbox.

This deceptively simple idea has the potential for viral growth.

We envision a time in the very near future when “Poingoing an email” will be as meaningful as “Googling” a topic.

“Hey, I really need to remember to call about that. I will ”Poingo” it for 2 weeks from now.”

This is not a pipedream. Hundreds of fanatical users now stay on top of their game with the Bounceback Server.

History

In early 2004, I was a classic power emailer, trying to manage millions of dollars of construction with a hodgepodge of separate applications and paper systems. The increased centrality of email to almost all business processes became increasingly apparent. I dreamed of a system that would integrate custom-interval follow-up within his email system.

Repeated searches turned up no viable solutions. I brainstormed the idea with son Matt (now an electrical engineering student), then hired a developer and built the system. It has been online and working reliably since April 2004.

Fulfilling Needs

Email Overload: By providing a safe, reliable place to store future task-related emails, the Bounceback Server allows users to remove them from cluttering their mailbox until they are needed. Users have an additional choice when a new email comes in. In addition to deleting, responding or filing, they can now “Poingo”.

Task Management: Most work tasks are eventually discussed in an email. When such emails are incoming, they can simply be “Poingo-ed” for future action. Or users can request action from others in an outgoing email and copy the Bounceback Server. Workers can also generate new emails with to-do items and send them only to the Bounceback Server for later action. This is essentially a self-addressed reminder.

High Efficiency:

Bounceback Server users can create a follow-up reminder in as little as one keystroke. How?

User enters frequently used intervals in his address book; let’s say 2w@poingo.com. If his email system auto completes the addressee, user need only type “2”, and the rest of the address will appear. You can’t get more efficient than that!

Brain Overload: The original email is the carrier for the follow-up reminder, so the original message content is 100% preserved. Seamless continuation of the project easy. No need to refer to other documents to get “up to speed”.

Open the reminder email and the original information appears. Continue where you left off. Very easy on tired, overloaded minds.

Try it free.

An investment group is now forming to evolve the Bounceback Server into a large-scale operation. To learn more, contact Mark at info@poingo.com.