Tuesday, February 3, 2009


Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell

reviewed by Jim Tidd

Outliers are extraordinarily successful people. How did they do it? How much of it was talent? How much of it was intelligence? What about hard work? Gladwell has some interesting answers to these questions.

Consider the top Canadian hockey players. Most of them were born in January, February, or March. Why? Because the cutoff date for selection into the next higher level team is January 1st. A kid born on January 2 is almost a year older than a kid born Dec. 31, so he is going to play better hockey. He may not have more native talent, but he gets promoted, plays with better players, gets better coaching, and more ice time. This selection occurs every year starting at age six, and he has that same advantage every year. By the time he's a young adult, he's a better player than his younger counterpart, permanently.

To catch the PC wave, you needed to be born about 1955. Like Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, or Scott McNealy. The key PC event was the announcement of Altair computer kit. You needed to be old enough to know what to do with it, to be able to afford it, but not already graduated from college and absorbed into the IBM workforce and family life.

10,000 hours is a magic number. By the time their opportunities came along, people like Gates and the Beatles already had their 10000 hours into what they were doing.

There is a concept called "smart enough". To work in theoretical physics, you need an I.Q. of at least 120, but beyond that it doesn't matter much. Einstein was 150. Many unknown scientists have I.Q.s well over that. So the "gifted" programs in schools are bogus because they focus on I.Q.

It's an interesting book.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Grampa and Grammie Family Photo

Check out this great family photo!
Correct me if I'm wrong...

Back: Nilson, Miles, Roger with Jessica, Geanna, Grampa, Dad with Jeff.

Front: Shirley, Joanne, Grammie, Mom with John (left) and Bill (right)

Phoenix and Tucson



Above: Geanna, Grampa, Libby, Me




Above: Jessica (Chris's daughter), Chris, Geanna

I had a recent business trip to Phoenix, which included a weekend stay with an action-packed Saturday with Aunt Geanna. She picked me up at 9AM, we went across town to Chris's house where I met his family, then to Geanna's place, then to Tucson (2 hour drive) to see Grampa and Libby and Gail, Ed, and Merrilee, then back to Phoenix to see Danny and his family in the evening. Geanna drove the whole way and dropped me off at 11pm! It was fabulous to see and connect with great family. Unfortunately I didn't get a photo of Libby's kids when we were at Grampa and Libby's, and I didn't get a photo at Danny's, but if Geanna got one and sends it to me, I'll post it. Did you know that Libby took a welding class, I think when she was in Prescott? And Dad was a member of a "gang" that had regular meetings and the members wore eagles on the backs of their jackets (according to Grampa)? And that Dad built a boat when he was a kid at Grampa's studio office?

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Monday, December 15, 2008

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Hunting 2008

2008 was our most successful hunt ever! Two deer in one year! Is that even legal?

This year Bill showed extreme manly hunting prowess by seeing game every day, pushing one deer right to me so that I had to shoot it just to defend myself and then calling in his own deer and chasing it down on foot.

Bill, John & I have each gotten deer within the last two years. I counted that I've hunted 10 years in Maine and this is my first deer shot there. The first bullet I've ever fired in the woods there actually.

Photo 1: Bill saw a moose on the first day on the east side of Millinocket Lake.
Photo 2: Millinocket Lake from Pelletier's camp.
Photo 3: Gourmet meals every night!
Photo 4: Jeff w/buck.
Photo 5: Bill w/deer.
Photo 6: Camp with accoutrements.
Photo 7: Showing pride on the ride home.





































Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Election Day

This is my first blog. What is a blog? That is a rhetorical question. If I really cared I would look it up.

This morning Diana and I stood in line at 5:50am outside Emily Dickenson Elementary School on 96th street and waited for the polls to open. The line was already winding around the block. On the corner someone had posted a sign -- "No electioneering beyond this point" -- creating a safe zone where no one could hassle us (Broadway has been teeming with Obama supporters for weeks). The man behind us had brought his morning paper, and we felt slight envy while we waited. The doors opened promptly at 6am and the line moved forward. Richard and Susan, neighbors who live upstairs in our building, were among the first to exit. We chatted for a moment before they bustled off, Susan in the lead with Richard in tow (their usual configuration). We were soon in the building and in a big room full of voting machines and card tables manned by volunteers of all shapes and sizes and before I knew it I was in a booth reading instructions and pushing and pulling levers on a machine straight out of that scene in The Princess Bride where Prince Humperdink comes storming into the Pit of Dispair and Count Rugen yells "Not to 50!" and poor Westley takes it like a man (he dies screaming). Anyway I'm halfway through reading Proposition I when people start calling into me "Everything okay?" and "Do you need any help?" and Diana is explaining "He's from NH, they use pencils there" and I rush through the last two levers and I'm done and step back through the curtain zipping up my fly (no wait, that's not right) to see a small line had formed. I stood nearby while Diana voted near a poll organizer with neat dreadlocks and a broad white-toothed grin. The room was bustling with people who did not resemble me or I expect share my life experience much beyond wanting to survive and thrive and be reasonably good and honest without taking too much on the chin. The mood was optimistic and alive and at 6:45 when Diana was finished we walked out taking the mood with us and it stayed with us through our walk around the reservoir in Central Park and the subway ride into work. We're still feeling it, actually, as we settle down this evening to watch the results.