We're all human, after all...

While browsing around the Brown University Bookstore, I was impressed by the choice of books displayed prominently on the shelves: obviously, these were carefully chosen senection, intended to overwhelm you with the impeccable taste and superior intellect befitting an Ivy League school. Then, the most peculiar thought popped up: "Do they have Cliff Notes at Brown University?"

I made my way up the stairs to the second floor -- the textbook section...

And lo and behold... I spotted without difficulty, the familiar rotating wireframe rack stacked with Cliff Notes on the classics like "A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man," and random works of Shakespeare... ah, the unmistakably familiar slim yellow pamphlets... the answer to the desperate prayer of myriad high school and college slackers the night before a book report!

I could not hide an extremely satisfied grin from my face: I felt strangely vindicated.

So... we're all human, after all....

Trivial Inventory

Travelling to client site Monday thru Thursday is actually not too bad. There's no doubt: having to start out the gate by waking up at 5am and dragging your luggage and your tired ass through the airport until you plop yourself into a crammed seat on a commuter flight to get a bit of a shut-eye is brutal. There definitely are other low points on this whole road warrior thing (flight delays, for one), but overall, once you get the hang of the routines, you just kinda put up with it mindlessly.

Another low point that I was reminded of this week is having to stay in a different hotel every night while you are on the road. This week, by a combination of scarcity of hotel rooms in Providence (some dumb convention -- the enemy of travelling consultants), screwed up reservations and project obligations, I ended up staying in a different hotel every night this week: this Blog entry was made possible, courtesy of free Internet access at the fourth hotel I'm spending the night in this week.

Having to pack twice (once on Sunday night, then on Thursday morning) and unpack twice (Monday night, Thursday night) is not too bad... having to pack and unpack every day for six days in a row in a week is a killer; you are truly 'living out of your suitcase.'

Current content in my travel luggages this week:

Laptop bag (Codi):

• 1 laptop + cordless mouse + laptop adaptor
• 2 issues of Wired Magazine
• 1 issue of Entertainment Weekly
• 1 issue of Fast Company
• 1 copy of WSJ
• 1 Mont Blanc Meisterstuck pen (black)
• 1 PaperMate mechanical pencil
  
• 13 Claritin-D pills
• 1 20GB iPod + iTunes + Sony earphones
• 1 PSP
• 1 Moleskine notebook (personal journal)
• 1 Journal book (work notebook)
• 1 256MB USB memory drive
• 2 mini-bottles of mouthwash (1 from JW Marriott, other from Westin)
• 1 Motorola bluetooth mobile phone headset
• 1 pack of tissues (from Red Roof Inn)
• 1 can of Altoit Smalls
• 1/2 pack of Breath Savers
  
• $2.84 in coins
• 2 binder clips
• 1 Pentel 0.5mm HB
• 2 bunches of keys (home, rental car)
  
• 4 ID badges (1 for my company, 1 current client, 2 past clients)
• miscellaneous cab, hotel, rental car receipts
• 4 company expense envelopes
• 2 books (Good to Great, Perfume)
• 2 random newspaper pages (one with articles on wine country, one with comparison shopping websites)
  
• 1 wallet

(damn, no wonder my bag weighs a TON!)

20-inch Luggage (Dakota):

• 3 dress shirts (black, white, pink)
• 2 pairs dress slacks (black, brown)
• 1 belt
• 1 pair of jeans
• 4 pairs of dress socks
• 4 pairs of boxers
• 3 white shirts
• 1 gym shirt
• 1 gym shorts
• 2 athletic socks
• 1 casual t-shirt
• 2 polo shorts (white, grey)
• 1 toiletry bag (misc toiletry items)
  
• 1 electric shaver (Norelco)
• 4 chargers (mobile phone, PSP, iPod, mobile phone headset)
• 1 book (40 Days and 40 Nights)

Fairy-tale of Horror! Perfume

"Set in 18th-century France, Perfume relates the fascinating and horrifying tale of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a person as gifted as he was abominable. Born without a smell of his own but endowed with an extraordinary sense of smell, Grenouille becomes obsessed with procuring the perfect scent that will make him fully human. " (from Library Journal)

Such description hardly does justice to the lush and hypnotic beauty of the narrative that gives voice to this bizarre, yet amazingly original premise of the book which unfolds into one of the most unique stories I've read. In reading the first third of the book, I was simply mesmerized at the incredible narrative that brings to life the world of 18th century Paris, seen (or rather, smelled) through the eyes of Grenouille; the sights of the world is not blinded by colors or distored by sound, but exhaustively and thoroughly comprehended through smell. Often times, you get to hear about how beautiful the sunrise is at Newport, or what medly of sound and noise fill the streets in Manhatta, but you almost rarely get a picture of a place described entirely on the thousands of different smells that hang in the very air that saturates you when you are taking in the sight or deafened by noise. I cherished every page of the book, in sheer fascination as if a the same world unfolded in a totally different sensation felt through the olfactory sense.

As wonderfully amazing the first half is, the latter half gets, simply... bizarre and macabre. Yes, it leaves an awesome impact on the destructive nature of the fate many of these 'geniuses' face, but this tale ends up as a fairy-tale of terror... both to the victims of Grenouille's maniacal obsession as well as the reader. At the same time I very much appreciated the powerful impact of how the story unfolded at the end, it was a bit too bizarre and chilling for my taste. Nonetheless, I definitely recommend a reading for anyone (beyond adolescence); it's a unique literary treat.

Why I keep thinking about my reaction to reading The Hunchback of Nortre Dame, especially the ending of that book, while I am posting this Blog... I do not know...

Sheer Genius

Visiting an Apple Store to get your broken iPod attended to is a lot similar to a visit to the vet with your sick puppy, Fido... Fido, hardly being able to raise its little head to lick your hand while you stroke its head and playfully rub its ears, whimpering as it stares with you those big, puppy eyes, its listless body hanging limp in your arms as you burst through the door at the vet... yes... it's a lot like bringing your ailing iPod into an Apple Store, hoping, wishing and so desperately NEEDING the tender loving care that might bring it back to life.

Sitting at the benches lined up along the 'Genius Bar' counter at the Michigan Avenue among other iPod owners who were waiting for their names to be called out, I could not help but be totally amazed at what kind of personal culture Apple has created in the hearts of the owners of its gadgets. Here I was, with about a dozen other iPod owners (and a few that were toting their PowerBooks), all tenderly holding their beloved little mp3 players in their hands while patiently waiting for their turn, and I could not help but think that this would be exactly like what a waiting room at a vet would look like, save for stacks of Highlight magazine on the tables. Having spent my share of fun times at the customer service lines in various sorts of tech retailers, this observation was a totally novel one.

The other iPod owners were mostly 'kids' in their teens, and the four Geniuses (the supposed iPod doctors that were all trained to be ninja masters at everything iPod, according to the pamphlet I was fiddling with) that were helping out the worried owners from behind the bar counters seemed just a few years older than the owner demographic -- and all seemed undoubtably hip with the right mix of hair styles, clothing, accessories and random piercings and tattoos in just the right place for hipness. Of course, the entire area is decorated in line with the usual Apple Store theme -- clean white surface, opaque glass, contemporary veneer finishes and stainless steel accents -- and you feel your own hip quotient clicking up a few notches just for being there.

When your name is called, you approach the bar, hand over your iPod, then take a sit at the bar stool while explaining Fido's symptoms. Then the Genius politely ASKS if it'd be okay with you if he ran some test of his own; totally useless question ("Whatcha mean, run some tests? What is this nonsense? Don't you have some special genius power of omniscience?") but definitely appreciated. Your mood considerably brighter (those damn Geniuses obviously know how to work it), you watch them as they hook up your iPod to PowerBooks and run a few diagnostics on the iPod -- and this is much less like a mechanic hooking your car onto an ugly, brutish looking apparatus to run diagnostic tests in a grimy garage, but like watching Patch Adams working on the kids.

I suppose if the symptoms were something that they can fix, they'll explain the situation to you patiently and with considerable care, then work with you to arrange the next steps. Alas, my poor iPod; it was beyond recuscitation...

That's when they whip out a fresh new iPod from the cabinets behind the bar, still cradled in its factory packaging, and tell you that they're replacing your iPod for free!!! (All iPods come with 1yr warranty; I had a two year AppleCare Protection on my baby that I purchased for $49.) I could see that this is a regular occurance here... the Genius who was helping me out just handed me this brand new iPod without any haggling, reminder of how generous uncle Apple is, or any other such nonsense. Amazing.

It's not the whole free replacement thing, but the experience of getting PERSONAL CARE for your purchases that exemplifies the types of owership experience you have with Apple products.

Sheer Genius, I tell ya.

Savor it! Haroun and the Sea of Stories

I seldom come across a book with a story so satisfying that you are inspired to look forward to a chance of reading it to a loved one (whether it be a child or a lover)... acting out the scenes, making up tunes for the songs they sing and embellishing every voice with your own character. This book is THAT good.

You can argue about the deep context behind Rushdie’s well-known controversy over his other works (such as The Satanic Verses) or the literary artistry in his works, or muse about the lessons on morals and values you MIGHT take away from the reading; forget about these. For me, it was just the simple joy of relishing a really GOOD story.

I think that writing a GOOD story that appeal to audience of all age is an extremely difficult thing. Elements like sophisticated wit, wily cleverness, mastery of prose and deep reflections on life and complex literary devices and can only appeal to certain types of audience at once; they are not universally appreciated at all age level.

Well, this book is all that. I don’t even want to rant on and on about what I fancied about the tight structure of the storyline, etc… that would just ruin the sheer enjoyment of reading this short, yet absolutely satisfying story.

Just go find your absolute favorite place to stretch out and relax, pick up the book, and savor...

(Thank you, Marc, for sharing this priceless book with me. Friends, C.)

Thayer Street, Part II

Sunday morning.

Although the bar scene was a complete disappointment, I spotted many bakeries, cafes and coffee shops in the Thayer Street area of Brown University that seemed like a great place to relax over some coffee and pastries on a Sunday morning.

A small pleasure that I enjoy in a strange city is to relax in a neighborhood coffee shop over a copy of the local newspaper, reading every article that gives you a good idea about the town's flavor; articles that reports the biggest events in town, discusses the hottest housing trends in the area, reviews of the latest restaurant openings and so forth.

Armed with a copy of the Sunday edition of The Providence Journal, I settled by a large window that opened to the main section of Thayer street in an Italian cafe called, Roba Dolce. Just watching the people strolling by, random music from passing cars and street musicians, the chatters of small and large groups, students in their typical campus shirts and jeans, young couples with strollers... it was the right scene to just lose myself for a couple of hours, thoroughly engrossed in reading about the little things that go on in the small towns around Providence, enjoying the light summer breeze, shifting seat time to time to adjust to the flood of sunshine pouring in from the window... no plans for later in the day, no people to see, no appointments, no commitments... just me completely lost in a lazy sunday afternoon in a New England town...

It was beautiful.

(Who needs a vacation if one could just enjoy a couple of hours like this every now and then???)

My Adventures at Thayer Street -- Part I

How hard is it to find a pub in a college campus town???

Having to spend Friday night alone in Providence, I decided to venture out from the comforts of my room at the Marriott in search for a pint of Guinness. Even for consultants, it's rare to spend a weekend at a client site alone; you're usually with a team of other consultants who'd be just as eager as you are to get out of the hotel room and explore a bit, and you generally have no trouble finding the hot spots in whichever town they're in. However, this weekend, as I had to attend a wedding in Boston on Saturday, I ended up staying in Providence while the rest of the team flew back to their home cities. I figured that the familiar surroundings of a nice mellow pub would do me some good.

Billed as "Brown's answer to Harvard Square" according to the Guest Services Directory at the hotel, Thayer Street had all the makings of the right place; it's the main boulevard at the RISD-Brown University area (College Hill neighborhood in Providence), lined with the usual things that you'd expect to find in such places: school bookstores, cafes, snack shops, restaurants, retail shops, and most importantly, BARS! Dressed in what I hoped would help me pass as a typical college grad student (sneakers, jeans, graphic t-shirt, geeky glasses and out-of-bed head), I hit Thayer Street at 11pm.

Good times, here I come!

Having been trained in the highest form of the art of drunken debauchery in a Big Ten university, I knew exactly what I should be expecting: a bar in every corner, loud indie rock music assaulting you from every where you turn, hippie students playing their acoustic guitars in various crevices, drunken people stumbling into and out of the entrances of the bars, street littered with drunken debauchery, cacophonous noise and smell of grease, bbq, pizza, beer, cigarette smoke and occasional whiff of perfumes stuffing the scene.

Well, what I got was nothing like that whatsoever. I realized that something was amiss when I noticed that even after about two blocks, I had yet spotted a single person who looked like they had more than a couple drinks; everyone was completely sober! Then I noticed that while the streets were lined the kind of shops that I'd have expected, the places that looked promising were restaurants and lounges with names like 'Viva,' 'Paragon,' 'Andreas,' 'La Luna,' and 'Kartalea,' with patrons dressed more appropriately for yuppie lounges and clubs than college campus bars. If the patrons were not all in their late teens and early twenties, I would never have thought that this was a campus area scene!

Upscale restaurants and clubby lounges are fine for a night out in your town; for a lone 'tourist' in a strange city, only thing that would do is a bustling pub with live music where you can quickly lose yourself in the drunken crowd. Dismayed, I continued walking to the end of Thayer Street to the other end (at least the main street portion) and I could not spot a single pub. I could not believe it! I then crossed the street then started heading back to where i started when spotted a sign called, "spiritus fermenti' with a picture of what looked like a wine barrel with the promise of being a great drinking hole. Eagerly, I followed the sign, salivating with the thought of a nice cold pint at the bar... only to discover that it was just a liquor store! (At least they had a respectable selection of microbrew and international beer selection.)

Disappointed, I tried another strategy: follow a large group that seemed to be heading to a party of some sort (or to a bar) in hopes that I'd at least get to see where the Brown University kids party at. Spotting a group of about a dozen random students dressed like they were headed for a fun time (girls in the club black, boys in their best jeans and shirts), I just blended into the crowd, walking to keep up their brisk pace. When they veered off of Thayer street into a side street, at first, I thought that I was mistaken in targetting Thayer Street (of course, the really cool places would be off the beaten path!). However, the streets were lined with what seemed like school buildings and student housing and I was beginning to think that perhaps I was wrong again... then the group started thinning out with each block, then when the final group dispersed into various entrances of a student dormitory, I realized that they were coming back from DINING at Thayer Steet. Why they are dressed like they were going to the best clubs in the city, I do not know. Perhaps that's why I never made it to the good schools. :-)

A few more things I observed:

• The place with the loudest music that rocked the block was, strangely enough, not a bar, but an Italian cafe called Riba Dolce that sold gelatinos and paninis.
• It seemed like every motorbike owner in Providence was cruising around in Thayer streets; young kids in their Japanese crotch rockets and the older ones in the cruisers. Although these bikers lined Thayer Street with their bikes, they were all standing around in their little groups (the Harley guys in their own group; the Suzukies and Hondas in their on... you get the idea) and just talking and posing. No wonder; there are no pubs to go raise hell in ! (The Mongols and Hells Angels would eat these guys for breakfast.)

There is a happy ending to this sad little adventure, however. After abandoning Thayer Street, I ended up finding an Irish pub in downtown Providence (not too far from Thayer Street) called Ri-Ra, where a live cover band was rocking the house and the bar was stuffed with people having a great time. (I discovered later that the students from the nearby university -- including Brown University -- come down to downtown to party.) Over the course of three hours I was there, I ended up chatting up the whole night with a bunch of bar regulars, partaking in random shots with RISD students, and swapping stories with other tourists. Yes, no matter where you are, a good pub never disappoints.

My iPod Broke!

Symptoms:

• Device would stop synchronizing songs with the PC after about 100 songs, then freeze
• Device cannot be reset; need to let battery drain before plugging in power (which resets it)

Possible Causes:

• Countless times device was dropped on various types of surfaces from heights 3ft+
• Subjected to the x-ray machine at the airport security posts: 200+ times
• Habitually disconnecting device from PC when it was clearly instructed on the screen: Do Not Disconnect

Diagnosis:

• Behond hope; be prepared for the worst

My iPod broke! Having spent a whole week without my iPod, I am slowly getting used to the things that people (sans iPod) do in various places, such as: staring blankly into empty spaces when in lines, unconsciously tapping foot to the beat of the ambience music in malls, whistling the tune from Kill Bill over and over while walking around town, scanning radio stations through the entire FM spectrum three times before settling on a random Top 40 station.

The list goes on. This must be stopped.

BTW, The new iPod nano came out.... droooooooool.... (Stay tuned!)

Twelve ! > Eleven

Watching 'Ocean's Eleven' again on TV, I realize how much more fun 'Ocean's Eleven' was, compared to 'Ocean's Twelve'... even when you watch Ocean's Eleven on network television!

'What the $*@& am I doing here?'

A consultant's day plays out similar to one of those United Airlines commercials on TV... it's an animation set against a staccato where you see this business guy waking up early in the morning being careful not to wake up his wife, make himself coffee, drive over to the airport while it's still dusk, stand in line, take the plane, land in a strange city, cab over to a strange office, has a bunch of meetings after meetings after meetings (and he becomes progressively weary and beaten), then he practically crawls into a hotel room dragging his suitcase behind, (the jingle then slows down to a mellow legato) then takes out a teddy bear from his suitecase with a big grin on his face, and he plops down onto his bed as he's talking to his baby daughter on the mobile.

Awwwwwwww....

Now. Take out the whole waking up next to wife bit, repeat the frame on meeting after meeting after meeting over and over and over until you want to hurl something at the TV, then take out the whole teddy bear thing at the end, and you get SORT of an idea what it's like for consultants on the road. (Yes, and it has turned us into visciously sadistic monsters where we take strange delight in watching blood drain your face in disgust.)

Strangely enough, one of the most reflective time for a consultant is late at night in the office, long after everyone has left... so long that usually, even the janitor has made his round and has gone home. They turn off most of the light at the office at certain hour in the night (usually around 9pm), and the the eerie florescent glow from cubicles where their occupants have forgotten to switch off the desk lamps, effervesce into the silent darkness.

Sitting at the desk, the bright notebook computer screen is a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness; you really get to concentrate on whatever it is that you are doing... then once in a while, you lean into the back rest, head arching back and arms stretching out to the side for a few moments, then you glance over at the wrist watch as you retract your arms.

11:15pm

...

'What the $*@& am I doing here?'

....

No, not 'here' as in the office... no, not 'here' in the building.... no, not even in the city or the general region of the country... it's not even a rhetorical question that has anything to do with physical locations.

...

'What the $*@& am I doing here?'

...

Yes, you think about A LOT of things at 11:15pm in a deserted, desolate place when you are all by yourself in the dark office. :)

Return of the Road Warrior

one week of taking a vendor training
+ three weeks of teaching a training course
+ two weeks of vacation
-------------------------------------------------
six whopping weeks away from client projects!

Having worked at this company for more than six years, this was the longest stretch of time I've ever spent away from client projects... and it's all coming to an end tomorrow when I resume my weekly commute to client project sites with the 7am flight to Providence. It's only 9pm, but I'm already suffocating from the anxiety.

After all these years, I still have trouble sleeping on Sunday nights. Perhaps it's the pressure to get up at 4:30am the following morning. Staying up LATE into Sunday night, perhaps, makes it feel as if I'm stretching the last bit left of the weekend to the max. I've gotten packing a suitcase to an art form; regardless of the length or nature of the trip, I can pack a couple suitecases in less than ten minutes -- consistently. Unfortunately, the other 'consistent' track record I've set is that I always forget to pack ONE item each trip. It's a minor annoyance when you realize at 11pm the first night at the hotel that you've forgotten to pack your toothbrushes; mobile phone chargers, on the other hand, become pretty costly after a while. With having purchased five chargers so far for my mobile phone (Sony Ericsson T616), I must have set a record of some sort! Well, I digress.

Restless sleep. Back to reality. Back on the road!

Whole Foods Market

Whole Foods Market is an amazing place -- just walking along the aisles instantly makes you feel ten times more wholesome and health conscious. While waiting for the afternoon traffic to clear out, I ducked into a local Whole Foods Market to grab a bottled water to tote with me to the bookstore where I was planning on browsing through magazines to pass the time. What was intended as a quick in-and-out operation turned out to be an hour's worth of marveling at the 'culture shock' of being surrounded by products that sound so healthy, organic, fresh, natural, nutritional, clean, hearty, environment friendly... ARRRGH! I just can't find enough adjectives to sufficiently convey that WHOLESOME feeling that you get by being surrounded by such amazingly WHOLESOME stuff!

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here's a list of random items I've jotted down on my notebook:

• Lakefront Organic ESB (never seen the word 'organic' on a beer bottle label)
• Seventh Generation 100% Recycled Bathroom Tissues (whitened without chlorine bleach, the label adds... I didn't care for that bit, but what I did care about was that this was not recycled from other paper product, and not 'previously utilized' bathroom tissues!)
• Lamb and Brown Rice Dinner for Dogs (yes, your pet do cares that this is not the unhealthy white rice)
• Nature's Path Organic Hemp Plus Granola (hemp???)
• Fantastic Always Natural Falafel, Humus, Tabouli (and other Middle Eastern flavors)
• Organic Evaporated Cane Juice Sugar
• Ten Tree Oil and Neem Toothpaste (what's 'neem'?)

Here are some more things I noticed:

• A whole section dedicated to Odwalla juices in delicious sounding flavors such as Berries GoMega
• No baking goods made with white flour... in fact, it was the first time I've ever seen whole wheat hotdog buns
• Cashew butters. Nice.
• More than twenty varieties of flax oil
• Unholy absence of products from the mega-brand labels, such as Kraft, Dean Foods, Nestle, Johnson&Johnson
• Definitely no Lucky Charms
• The best looking produce section I've seen: everything so... picture perfect!

I had one final thing I needed to check: and yes, all of the greeting cards sold here are made of 100% recycled papers. (Recycling greeting cards definitely seem to make more sense than recycled bathroom tissues!)

The one really weird thing that seemed out of place was the general music selection. It seems to be some sort of adult contemporary top 40 from 80's and 90's. (I was rocking out to 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' as I was cruising through the cereal section... it's ironic that Whole Foods Market doesn't seem like an organization that will promote a habit as unhealthy as 'pouring some sugar' on anything.)

Moseying my way around the aisles in Whole Foods Market, overcome with a blissfully wholesome euphoria, I could not help but get disgusted when I thought about the types of food I eat when I'm on the road (fast food all the way!) and on the weekends (bar food all the way!). This place felt as far away from the greasy fast food burgers and pizzas and vending machine snacks as I could imagine. Well, speaking of vending machine snacks...

Overheard on my way to the check out counter:

Kid1: "I really like these Organic Fig Bars."
Kid2: "Yeah, they're pretty sweet. Are they kosher?"
Kid1: "Don't know. Gotta ask m'moms."

Poor kids... they've probably never had a taste of Skittles. Perhaps life is not so bad outside of Whole Foods Market. Absurdly enough, I felt better about myself after this.

Do Read: The Innovator's Dilemma

"Sharp, cogent, and provocative, The Innovator's Dilemma is one of the most talked-about books of our time -- and one no savvy manager or entrepreneur should be without."

- quote from the back cover of the book -

Mmmmm... obviously, there is in existence, this cohort of 'savvy managers' who have been buzzing excited about this book for quite some time! Why this news has never reached my world before, I do not know; but I can no longer sit here in my ignorant, dark world, now that the back cover of the book told me that I am not a 'savvy manager' if I do not read this book . (What? Don't you always follow what the back cover of a book says?)

This book arrived at my door in a box with a dozen other business books in a shipment from Amazon.com. My company has a certain amount of annual budget (not much) for individuals to order 'self development' materials each year, and I usually end up choosing books to order from Amazon.com by skimming through the recommended reading lists of influential business publications. It's quite sad, really. After years of having to be very conscious about how I spent the little free time I have, best seller lists have become the core of my reading selection strategy -- and everyone knows that real gems rarely find their way onto these lists. (For example, Paolo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' has been around for many years, but in U.S., it appeared on best seller lists all of a sudden just recently. Why?)

From this stash (which, by the way, have mostly gone straight from the box to the bookshelf to join the others gathering dust in a special shelf dedicated to thick business books that I have purchased over the years, but never read), I started with this book because, apart from the provocative challenge from the back cover of the book (yes, I cannot let it go!), this book also happened to be at the lowest end of the scale in terms of number of pages: 286. (Some others that I ordered turned out to be some seriously hefty tomes, most with well over a thousand pages!)

The main thesis of the book is simple:

1. An organization's capabilities comprise resources, processes and values
2. An organization's capabilities are highly tuned to support the core competency of a company, and they are driven by upward vision to expand into higher value markets
3. Unfortunately, how an organization is tuned for success with an established technology (e.g. mainframe computers) is the very factor that undermines its success when faced with disruptive technology (e.g. introduction of PCs), because resources (e.g. relevent skills in a particular technology in a company) is easy to change; processes and values are not

Of course, what makes a business book good is not the main ideas that can be summarized into three bullet points, but the compelling ways in which these ideas are presented and supported through rich and relevent examples -- and this book does just that. Now, the beginning is slightly rough, as the author opens up with an account of what happened in the hard disk industry between 1970-1990's (yeah... when was the last time you got excited talking about the progress of HD technology during a cocktail party?) but after the first two chapters, even for a relatively unsavvy business book reader such as myself, this book began to read very smoothly -- the flow of arguments and introduction of ideas that build upon previously established thesis are logically solid in a very satisfying way. There is a chapter of summary close to the end of the book, if you're the type who'd relied on Cliff Notes to get you through high school, but then again, I'll bet you haven't gotten much from the books you've (supposedly) read.

I'm not sure if I'm a 'savvy manager' yet, but I sure do feel much more astute about being able to explain why companies that were the Wall Street darlings and considered esteemed leaders, all of a sudden, stumble and crash. Read it!

Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn!

Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...
...

I could not shut up my brain from echoing 'Oh my God, it's Vince Vaughn...' over and over as I was chasing after Vince Vaughn and his companion down the boulevard for a quarter of a block.

Vince Vaughn in Swingers was funny and witty. Vince in Old School was freakin' hilarious. Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers had you rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically until you were puking through your nose. No matter how familiar he seems to you after seeing his photos plastered all over the magazines and movie posters the last few months with advent of 'Wedding Crashers,' you just cannot imagine seeing Vince Vaughn in person, strolling past you in Milennium Park at 1:05pm on a Thursday afternoon in the midst of a crowd.

It was unreal.

He was obviously explaining something very intensely to his companion when I first spotted him, and from the gestures he was making (all too familiar from the movies) and the distinct voice that I could catch every now and then (also hard to mistake for another), I was certain that it was, indeed, Vince Vaughn. I wasn't even sure if I'd have the guts to ask him to pose for a picture with me as I started chasing after him. I just got up and started stumbling toward his path.

I've seen other stars before -- for example, Keanu Reeves in Wriglyville a few years back when he was shooting some movie, Mel Gibson when he was shooting a scene of 'What Women Want' at Marshall Fields, and many Korean movie stars in Seoul -- but they were all in movie sets or photo shooting sessions, and between me and the star were an army of film production people, hoard of adorning, frenzied fans, and most of the time, physical barricades. I've never 'bumped into' them before in the streets, person-to-person.

What made matters worse in this case was that he was thoroughly absorbed in his conversation, enough so that he was obviously failing to notice others like me who were cocking their heads with a quizical expression as he was walking past them. ("Hold on there, is that...? Vince Vaughn?") Interrupting him at this point would be like something akin to jumping into the scene of Last Supper in DaVinci's famous fresco where your sudden appearance stops everyone in the mid-sentence, for a minute or two of Jesus and his twelve disciples staring blankly at you and the awkward silence interrupted only by occasional uneasy coughs or sound of rustling table cloth, you break the stifling silence by saying: "Uh... are you... Jesus Christ? Great, that's what I thought. Whew! Uh... well... could I get a picture with you?" Definitely not cool.

Well, here's what I found out:

• Vince Vaughn is NOT as tall as I thought he'd be -- probably 6'1" or 6'2"?
• Vince Vaughn enjoys interviews with Terry Gross (host of NPR's "Fresh Air").
• Vince Vaughn has a firm, solid handshake.
• Vince Vaughn is as affable and cool as you'd think he'd be, despite a stranger interrupting him in the middle of the street.
• Vince Vaughn will not laugh when you playfully throw at him, "you are SO money!" Instead, his security guards will jump out of from the bushes and beat you up until you cry for mercy.

(Relax: the last one, I made up.)

When Vince Vaughn and his companion stopped at an intersection, he noticed me cautiously approaching him (imagine the scene of an Alaskan tourist with his face buried behind his camera, approaching a grizzly bear fishing for salmon in the stream, to snap a picture) and paused his converations (imagine the tourist snapping a twig, then the grizzly bear whipping its head and noticing its new dinner option, and the tourist freezing in his tracks, blood rushing away from his face).

I plunged right in:

Yours Truly: "Uh... You're Mr. Vince Vaughn, right?"
Jesus: "Yes, I am." (extending right hand for a shake) "What's your name?"
Yours Truly: "Choong. I live in Chicago." (I don't know why he'd be interested in this.)
Jesus: "Good to meet you, Choong." (shaking hands)
Yours Truly: "I just recently watched Wedding Crashers and I really enjoyed it... blah blah"
Jesus: (listening patiently)
Yours Truly: "I also read a recent article in Rolling Stone with you and Owen Wilson... blah blah"
Jesus: (listening patiently)
Yours Truly: "And I enjoyed the interview you did with Terry Gross at NPR... blah blah"
Jesus: (listening patiently)
Yours Truly: "I really think you are great; can I have your a baby?... blah blah"
Jesus: (listening patiently -- obviously, guys wanting to be impregnated by him is no big surprise to Vince Vaughn... and obviously, this is a figment of my imagination.)
Yours Truly: "Would you mind if I took a picture with you?"
Jesus: "Oh, of course, sure!" (poses for pictures) (*click!*) "How's that?"
(Then next gawker interrupts.)

The 'magic' in this whole "meeting Vince Vaughn thing" was that I walked away feeling like I just had a converation with Vince Vaughn as casually as if I was shooting the breeze with a buddy over a cold pint in a pub; he was definitley a cool guy. While I was walking through the busy streets of Chicago's Loop after parting ways with Vince Vaughn, I could not help imagine what I should have said to him if I was to do this over.

Well... that's for next time, Mr. Vaughn. Thanks for everything!

Note1: Obviously, you can see from my recount of meeting Vince Vaughn, why 99% of what's written in the New Testament is what the disciples and apostles blabbered about how great Jesus was (and to their credit, he IS!) and Jesus himself is quoted, oddly enough, very seldomly.
Note2: A lot of interesting sh*t happens to you when you are 'on the bench'
Note3: Neither of us were having the best picture day. Camera definitely adds 10 lbs. Right.
Note4: You can never mutter a star's name without refering to his/her full name... except possibly, Fabio (does he even have a last name???)