So how do you find a Cory Doctorow?

Seth Godin says that Cory Doctorow’s ability to crazy multi-task and be a real-time editor will be in high demand. I think it already is, but companies haven’t really identified it. So once you realize that you need people that can do that, how do hire for it? How do you suss out in an interview that someone is capable of doing all this and still keep their sanity? You can’t train someone to do this. Either they have the ability to do it or they don’t.

I’m an editor in a crazy fast organization. Seth’s description of Cory sounds pretty similar to my typical day. Not only do I have to edit projects that are about ready to go out, I edit ones in process, and answer emails, Skypes, IMs and drive-bys about style, legal and anything and everything else. And in between all that figure out scheduling. Oh and I need to keep up on what’s being said about us out there so that I understand why we’re saying things without having to be brought up to speed. And of course keep up with anything that is remotely related to my industry. Lots of reading, lots of writing, lots of organizing. Right now I have 11 screens up.

But I know it’s not just editors, it’s everyone in an information rich environment. We all use email way too much. But you can’t get around it. If we’re in meetings, you can’t get us on the phone. So might as well get us on email while we’re in the meeting. And who knows when you’ll be back at your desk to get that voicemail anyway. If you want to be able to produce the best products, you have to know what the competition is doing – so you read as much as you possibly can, mostly online. On and on we go.

You need people that thrive in these environments and don’t burn out. But I’m not sure what’s the best way to find these people. So far we’ve been lucky.


The People in Your Neighbourhood

In Mountain View there are characters I see on a regular basis. The homeless man that dances with an invisible partner. The rotund bearded man who wears a kilt and leather wide-brimmed hat and waits for the bus to get to his high-tech job. (Yes, he’s in high-tech; I’ve seen him waiting to go home in front of a Mountain View company.) However, the characters from my childhood hold more magic for some reason.

Pete and RePete

Growing up in Little Falls, New Jersey, just 30 minutes outside of the city (New York City – is there any other?) it felt very much like a small town at times. Everyone pretty much knew everyone else, or you at least knew of everyone else.

Two characters everyone knew were the twins that we would see walking around town together all the time. We called them Pete and RePete. I have no idea if one of them was even called Pete. That is what we called them. And their names were passed from one generation of children to the next.

In my memory they’re walking down Main Street wearing dark grey work pants and dark grey jackets (always pressed), carrying lunch pails or a book (it was something), brown short-cropped hair, and horn rimmed glasses. They were completely synchronous – walked in step, swaying their arms at the same pace. They seemed to have the same internal beat – their hearts probably had beat at the same rate since they were in utero and everything else just fell into place. Seemingly, they were inseparable and one-in-the-same.

Riding through town in the backseat of my parent’s sky blue Chevy Caprice, I’d do some Pete/RePete spotting. It was a little treat to watch them in their little world. It meant my world was as it should be with the reassuring consistency of Pete and RePete walking to and from work together. (I had no idea where they were going, but as they were adults they must have been on their way to work or back home from it. That’s what adults do.) And yet, I always found myself asking what would it be like to always have another person with you – never being alone? If one died, how would the other survive if he’s never been alone in his entire life?

Over the years, white streaks appeared on the sides of their heads. They seemed to do aging synchronously too. Slowly I saw less and less of them. Did they retire? Or was it as I grew older my daily route changed and theirs didn’t? I don’t know what happened to them. Did they ever know we called them Pete and Re-Pete? They must have.

Mr. Mean-Green

Another character lived on my street. We called him Mr. Mean-Green. He was probably more a neighbourhood character, rather than a town character. He was obsessed with his lawn and garden, and would stand guard over it while sitting on his front porch. If we got an inch too close to his front lawn, he would glare. God forbid we ever stepped on that lawn. Boy, would we get yelled at, or worse yet he’d talk to our parents. We wouldn’t even dare bring a dog anywhere near that lawn. They had small terriers, but they never pooped on that lawn. That’s what the neighbours’ lawns were for. So even though there was a sidewalk there, I would cross the street just to avoid going anywhere near Mean-Green land.

The formidable Mr. Mean-Green was no match for my curiosity though. I don’t know if he ever knew about my explorations of his backyard. I can only imagine that he didn’t, because I don’t remember my mom giving me a talking-to about them. You see there was an unfortified entry point into his backyard. I lived on the side of the street that had fairly level properties. On the other side of the street, where he lived, the backyards dropped off into a gully that had a brook running through it. This brook was the highway to adventure. On the weekends I would follow the older kids through tunnels to areas yet unexplored by me. During the week while they were in school, I would go back to the brook to the places we had been.

One of the places the older kids always by-passed was Mr. Mean-Green’s portion of the gully. They always stayed in the brook there where it decided to dig deeper into the ground, so that we would have had to climb up vertical walls to get out. But I would peak over the edge of the brook while my older sister begged me to keep up. To me it looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland. Vast areas of perfectly even, soft, green grass, with a bridge over the brook that led to a secluded garden area rimmed with flowers. It was too much temptation for a little girl to resist. So one Spring weekday, I climbed out of the brook to the garden. I didn’t stay too long. But it was so exciting to be in the forbidden territory where there was a table set surrounded by flowers that was just dying to be used for tea parties. Oh Alice would have loved this place, and a little girl could play tea party for hours.

Mrs. Mean-Green must have spotted me perched up on her look-out, the back porch. She started coming down the hill with her terriers. I was terrified of dogs, even small ones that I could have crushed just by sitting on them. My memory gets hazy here. I can’t remember if she talked to me or if I got away. I do remember clambering down the side of the brook and jumping from rock to rock to reach the safety of the Freeland’s portion of the brook, where I could run back home undetected. But silly little me returned a few more times that Spring to play. After that Spring I never got out of the brook there again. Summers meant spending the day at the pool, and by fall it was time for full days of school. So the weekends were spent with the more cautious older kids who never ventured into Mean-Green land.

There are more characters like the man that supposedly chased kids out of his yard with a shot gun and the purple house lady. But this post is getting too long and travelling down memory lane is probably boring for anyone other than me.


Trey Spotting

Saturday we spent the day wandering around downtown San Francisco to see all the holiday decorations and get into the Christmas spirit (as much as it can feel like Christmas in California). We wandered all over and checked out the new mall. Crowds take too much out of me and I was dealing with the results of an open bar at the company Christmas party, so I gave up in Bloomies. So there I was, bleary-eyed in the middle of the make-up department when I had a vision of a redhead in glasses wearing a black Public Enemy hat. No, not my Brendon, but Trey Anastasio! And what do I do in my tired state? Stop dead in my tracks with my mouth agape pulling at Brendon, gasping “I think that’s Trey Anastasio!” And given that we were in Bloomies, no one else around us knew what that meant sadly. Otherwise, I would have come to my senses and gone into stalker mode to get a picture of my two favourite redheaded men together. And I was right, it was him. He was at the Warfield this weekend. Oh well…Happy Christmas!


Winter In BC – Photo Contest

Brendon and I will be heading up to British Columbia, Canada soon. Right now it’s snowing up there – I can’t wait! I miss snow. I’m immersing myself in all things winter as much as I can right now. It’s “cold” here now – only 52F, but in comparison to what it normally is it seems freezing. So to get in the winter mood I’m actually watching hockey on TV – Devils vs. Sharks of course. Devils!!! It’s obviously my methadone for things Canadian.
Anywho, my friend was just telling me that she’ll be writing some entries on for Richmond Tourism. So I went over to check it out and discovered a winter in bc photography contest they’re doing on Flickr. I’ll definitely be submitting some photos – we’ll be in the Canadian Rockies with uber amounts of snow. Of course, I’ll have to actually get picture of someone skiing – not sure if I’ll be bringing the camera on the mountain.


Snow Day!

Well, not exactly a snow day. Today, work was unexpectedly closed for the day. It was like being 10 again and being told there’s no school – almost. We were woken with an early morning phone call saying to stay home. There was a little bit of excitement that something out of the ordinary is happening. But after that it was the opposite of a snow day.

I had a 9 am conference call and actual work to do. No goofing off for me. And since this is California there’s no way there could be snow outside to go and play in. The most that you could do is run around and crunch some leaves. Somehow, just not the same as crunching in snow.

I guess if you grew up on California you’d never know what a snow day feels like, unless you lived in the mountains. That’s really just a shame. Children (and adults) need snow days. I guess I’ll just have to wait for Christmas up in Canada. Oh well, it’s back to work tomorrow. Can we have a rain day instead?

Madness, Photos



Originally uploaded by Ashley Richards.

On our way out of the apartment today, a woman stopped me to ask if this is building 3. It’s either 1 or 2. She goes on to say that there’s a sign over by Starbucks saying that they think there’s prostitution going on in building 3.

This is the sign. Now just because someone may be a slut, doesn’t necessarily mean she’s a prostitute.


How long has it been?

I know I’m not the greatest at keeping in touch with people, but today proved to me that I really need to try harder. Brendon told me that our friends started a new website called Now neither one of their names is Dexter, but Cruise is their last name. Um, well, it’s been way too long since I talked to Holly and Alex. Dexter is their new, adorable, baby boy.

Sad thing is that I kept saying I need to email Holly and the glass vase she made for me as a going away present is sitting right in front of me. And I kept putting off trying to find her email address (too many computers not one place for email addresses). Hopefully they’ll be in Vancouver this year for Christmas.


In Living Color

Went to Santana Row today. Saw Shawn Wayans walking around. He’s as good looking in person and super tall, but it could have been amplified by the fact that there was a shorter than average sized guy walking beside him. Maybe they were doing research for the Wayans’ film studio/theme park/mall in Oakland. I wonder how that will work out.
I really need to get a camera phone.  They also had the Italian festival going on today. Lots of funny picture opportunities,  especially since the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest accordionist”, Dick Contino, was there playing your stereotypical Italian songs. Here’s this old guy with a mullet of white curly hair up there on the stage singing his heart out like Tony Bennett wearing a blousey tank top that has a v-neck that goes down to his belly button. You can get a glimpse of it on his website. Then he pulled out the accordion. Looking at his website it seems like he has a successful career in Las Vegas. Why is Vegas a magnet for these types of performers?