Spank Tank

When i checked into the hotel Tuesday around noon, there were two professors in the lobby, having a spirited debate about the U.S. policy on nuclear proliferation in the Middle East. 

These are Physics professors, mind you.  Not experts in public policy.  “Electrons and Photons” physicists.  Not even nuclear physicists, or particle physicists…

On the one hand?  Nice that they give a shit.  On the other hand?  They might have well been USING the other hand to spank the Little Professor for all the good they were doing…

There is only a slight twinge of guilt for taking yesterday afternoon to go walk the beach, watch surfers playing in sloppy waves and get sunburnt.  In theory?  i was working… thinking deep thoughts about how little it all matters.

Game Day – Geek Style

Every year, the “mothership” of my organization* convenes a technical review board to assess our investment strategy for future program funding.  Typically, it’s a two-week ordeal for the members of the review board, and about a month-long frenzy of preparation for the mid-level management-like-objects, such as myself.

Maybe it was the buzz of the recently completed Winter Olympics, but i found myself making direct comparison to the realm of athletics as we prepared, and delivered, our strategy. 

Pre-Game Strategy:  Our Division Tech Director was responsible for developing the game plan.  He is a master of ‘strategery’ and knows the minds of the review board members (judges and referees) better than anyone else.  He started working the plan a month ago.  He determined the ‘line up’ of presentations**, sticking the weaker presentations just before, or just after, lunch.  Start strong, finish strong…

Training and Game Prep:  For the past three weeks***, the team has been slaving away.  Defining strategies, building cross-organizational teams.  We studied our excel spreadsheets.  We practiced and practiced and practiced answers to potentially challenging questions.  Cranial muscle memory must be developed!

Game Day:  It wasn’t a locker room, but the break room was abuzz with quiet anticipation this morning.  Everyone****  in early.  Pots of coffee – “geek gatorade” – were prepared and consumed.  Loads of “smack talk” tossed around.  My division secretary was quite the smart ass when i showed up wearing professional attire.  “Excuse me, Ma’am.  Can I help you?”  he queried as i stumbled around the corner looking for coffee.  “Hey, i dug out the ‘big girl’ clothes today.  Figured yoga pants and slippers wouldn’t help me deliver the goods…”.  Yes, down to our uniforms, we were all spot on…

Good Luck Charms:  Of the five tech advisors “in the game”, we all have different styles.  As a result, we each have our own ritualistic approaches to delivering a big presentation.  One sat down for a final flip through with the boss.  Another?  Frantically tweaking and tuning his presentation materials.  Me?  Coffee and reading the news online.  Checking my trusty back up laser pointer.  Stopping by the restroom en route to the auditorium to check for ‘nose goblins’.

The Pistol:  And we’re off!  Division Tech Director masterfully scripted the introduction, and one by one, we performed.  Holding tightly to the allotted times, he looked relaxed, but he was keeping track of the clock, taking notes on questions for clarification, moving dawdlers forward, deferring tough questions til later in the day.  The baton?  The wireless “clicker” and laser pointer.  Passed seamlessly to the next presenter.  Through the entire day, we were all there – encouraging our team mates.  Seeing a stumble coming – “oh, man, don’t bring that up!  It’s a trap, a TRAP!” – but sitting silently because it is not an audience participation sport.  We were ON!

Post-Game Wrap-Up and Analysis:  There were high-fives, low-fives – everything but towel-snapping and a ceremonial dumping of the coffee pot on the head of the Division Tech Director at the end of the day.  We rocked the house!  Several comments from the board, thanking us for being succinct, providing just the information requested, and answering all questions.  The “Beer Call” is scheduled for Friday, once we get the final report from the review board, but it looks like a sweep…

Geeks.  Who says there’s no sport in research and development?

Physics makes me strong!

* Called the “Front Office Group”, or lovingly “The F.O.G.”

** He put me first, against my protestations.  Finally he said “Look, that theatrical crap you do makes you a strong presenter.  Shut up.”  Ah, the benefits of cross-training!

*** One week for me.  i’ve been around long enough to know that the original marching orders would change over time.  Rather than get my job done, then spend many hours tweaking it and revising it?  i waited.  Cost me a sunny weekend, spent in the office, but net investment of time for me was waaaaaaay less than the other tech advisors.  “Interval Training”?

**** Including me.  Damn it.

Potential

Magic.  Anything is still possible in the 12-year old brain. The perfectly timed intersection of “knowledge” and “naiveté”, they genuinely believe the future is wide open….

With delight, i accepted an offer to teach a little geekery to a group of 40 “Science Campers”.  They were beautiful – a hyperspectral rainbow of excitement and energy, hungry to know something cool… ANYTHING geeky.   Yeah.  i’m guessing they were enjoying a week of not getting beat up after school for a change…

They pinged me with questions, a little shy at first, gaining confidence as they got comfortable with my style.  “How does that plate change photons into electrons?” to “Are there any sensors that can really see through clothes?” (giggles all around).
 
Was i like that at twelve years old?  Seems that i’ve always been a crunchy and jaded cynic.  Spending a morning with them took me back. 

Forty years ago this month, i was an androgynous, amorphous and routinely dirt-encrusted seven year old.  When Neil Armstrong was about to take his first steps on the moon, Dad dragged us out of bed. The entire family watched grainy, shaky images on the black and white console in the living room. 

Wasn’t really sure what was going on, but i knew it was important. At least to my Dad.

Over the next several years, he and i tracked the Apollo program closely. To say that it sparked me was an understatement. i didn’t just want to be an astronaut, I was going to be an astronaut.  He didn’t encourage me in a patronizing way, simply pointed out the things i’d have to do to get there.

We took a family vacation to the Huntsville Alabama Space and Missile center when i was 10 years old.  In hindsight, i  know it was his way of feeding my dream, because Mom and my sister, T, whined the entire trip.  In 1972, the Space Shuttle was in development, and we had the opportunity to muck around in a full scale prototype.  i was fascinated to discover my first space urinal – a nicely penis-shaped hole, attached to a vacuum system.

10 year old daisyfae to tour guide: “Where will the women go to the bathroom?”

i was given no acceptable answer. And it pissed me the fuck off….

In addition to the chance to teach Science Camp this week, i was also tagged to attend a technology exposition at a regional convention center. One of the keynote speakers was an astronaut. A woman who had worked in my organization when she was a baby engineer. About seven years younger than me, she’s now about 40.

Her presentation covered two prior space missions, as well as her current training for a lengthy stint on the international space station.  From underwater living in a deep-sea habitrail, to a few months in Antarctica to learning Russian, Japanese and German while working with her international colleagues to learn the jobs to be performed in space….  An endless stream of adventure, intellectual and physical challenges as she prepares to live in space.

She was clearly still full of the wonder of a 12-year old, grateful to have the best job in the world, if not the universe. And i was mesmerized.  Could i have done it?  Well, she wasn’t married and wasn’t saddled with kids…  Lots more time to focus on your own dreams when you don’t have people depending on you to take out the trash and review homework!

Oh.  That’d be a photo of her husband and small child.  Um… right.  There goes that excuse.  She’s definitely had a bit of good fortune, but luck and timing only take you so far.  She is the real thing.  Hard work, persistence, focus, drive and passion… Sacrifice.  Sleep deprivation.  Giving up time with her family to do what it takes to hit the goal…

i’ve been pretty damn lucky myself, following my own dream – allowing for some dilution along the way – i’ve managed to have the geek-a-rific career i desired.  And more.  Following a path that parallels the aerospace industry, i’ve also had the fortune to get to know a few astronauts along the way, allowing me a glimpse “behind the capsule door” from time to time.

But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.  As a minimum, i need to get my doughy ass to the gym.  She’s only 7 years younger and can squeeze into a Russian rocket capsule, torquing her body to perform Herculean Amazonian tasks.  i should at least be able to do a few more push ups…

A glimpse…

i’ve written quite a bit about life amidst science folk.  i talk about Geek Nation… And my conferencing.  The seemingly endless smorgasboard of research and scientific meetings i am subjected to attend.  To provide some enlightenment for those of you not of this community, i did something bad.  Something that guarantees my spot in a toasty alcove in Hell.  But i couldn’t help it…

At the nerd-extravaganza this week, i was pulled off into a side discussion with some of my own folks.  The never-ending and unresolved battle i’ve been in for several years to re-direct a substantial part of our research activities.  In fact, part of the reason i’ve accepted a position in another organization is that i’m simply tired of having the same conversation with the same people for at least the past six years.  They won.  i’m leaving….

For my parting shot, here’s a little cell phone photo, snapped during our side discussions – taken while i was trying to distract myself, and keep from shouting obscenities in a public hotel lobby.  That would be a very senior scientist wearing those man-pri’s.  The one that threw a tantrum a few months back.  Fortunately, i was wearing shades, or i’d still be suffering retinal burn from the whiteness of those legs…

At least his trousers were zipped. This time…

Yes.  i know i’m evil and Hell-bound.  But first, i’m leaving these bags of fossilized dinosaur turds behind me.  Not sure quite why i feel just a little guilty about this… These people are like family, and as such, a little abuse from time to time seems appropriate!  At least i didn’t take a photo of him tromping down the hallway to the men’s room, a daily happening at 0900, carrying his dog-eared copy of “Physics Today”.

Blunt Force Trauma

 Another week, another nerd-fest on the road.  Surveying the room — 200+ members of Geek Nation in attendance — i was sitting with my friend SR, a proud member of the Dawg Boyz*.  He noticed my new hair cut…

SR:  You’re looking good!  Nice do..

daisyfae:  i swiped the idea from that hot stripper your wife** hooked me up with on our last adventure in Fort Myers…

SR:  I thought it looked familiar.

We caught up on happenings over the past few months.  He wanted an update on my current crop of boy toys gentlemen friends.  After providing the latest scores and highlights, i mentioned the perpetual restlessness that marks my state of mind.  Scanning the room, i said “Hypothetically, let’s say i wanted to get laid at this meeting…  What do you see?”

SR:  I see that you’ve made a terrible career choice!  Holy shit, that would be like me with a terminal boner in a room full of toothless hags!

He helpfully pointed out a few attractive young post-doctoral research types.  “Naaaaah.  Too young.  i’m looking for a recently divorced professor, a little broken and bitter.  Looking for trouble, not romance!”

SR:  Holy FUCK!  That was me ten years ago!  Where were you then?  We missed the window!

We continued to talk shit and horse around during a particularly off-the-wall presentation.  After the talk, a colleague of SR’s walked up to our table in the back of the room, with the intention to throw a few jabs at the prior presentation.  SR introduced me to this unexpectedly non-dorky gent.

SR:  daisyfae?  Have you met Alex?  Alex?  This is daisyfae.  She’s trying to get laid…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

* This is a small, but enthusiastic, troupe of drunken yabs who lead our little corner of the technical community in drinkin’ and whorin’ excursions.

** SR’s wife, GR, is the only other female member of the Dawg Boyz.  She can hold her own.  The last excursion – which she led – was a mere two months after she shelled out twins.  i bow down at her altar….

Alcohol and Hearing Impairment

At a uber-nerdfest early last week in San Francisco…  i tried to be good.  i really tried.  Healthy food, avoidance of cookies, and an hour a day in the hotel gym, doing my physical therapy and getting some exercise.  This was going just fine until somewhere around 9pm on Tuesday evening*.

Simultaneous text message, voice mail and e-mail from colleagues at the same meeting:

text:  Bottle of scotch and Stephen Hawking.  Hotel Atrium.

voicemail:  daisyfae – get yer ass to the atrium.  we’re introverts.  we need someone lively down here…

e-mail:  come on down.  we need you.  too much scotch for us rookies.

The voicemailer called back a few minutes later – and begged me in just the right tone.  i whined back – “but i’m in my workout gear.  do i have to get dressed?”.  

“We’re geeks.  No one will even notice…”

And so it happened.  At 9 pm, i arrived for a ‘quick one’.  And so it also happened that i found myself leaving the lobby at 3 am.  After perhaps more than one.  Being staunchly devoted to my craft, i had to be up and at the “Speakers Breakfast” at 7 am.  Which meant showing up, with no shower, and looking a little bit crunchy around the edges.  But i did it…

Retreating back to my room for a powersnooze at 8 am, i was determined to be ready for the afternoon session.  Which i was co-chairing…

Turns out?  i may have discovered an after effect of alcohol that requires further study.  From my notes that afternoon:

Did he say “Pedophiles”?  Oh.  “Pentaflops…”  As in “It can be expected that we’ll see multiple pedophiles in 2009…”

If i didn’t know better, i could have sworn he just said “condom dots”.  As in “condom dot sensitization as measured through pump probe spectroscopy”.  Must be the Indian accent?  He said “quantum dots”…

“Does size matter – at the nanometer scale?” – oh, honey, if we’re talkin’ nanometers, believe me  – it’s WELL BELOW the point that matters… the word for the day is “sub-threshold”, sugarbuns…

Hypothesis:  Being mildly hung over during a technical meeting creates catastrophic impairment on both human hearing, and mental focus.

stephen hawking is a chumpass bitch...

* i did 24 hours or so of “non-debauchery”.  that’s a start…

Awww…. isn’t that precious?

Last week was my first week in two months with no business travel.  i was genuinely looking forward to a week in the office – no airports, no hotel rooms next to the ice machine, no endless meetings, no dorkboys accosting me poolside for advice on widget-du-jour.  And no screaming babies.  Up through Wednesday, life was pretty good.

On Thursday, we began a two day internal program review.  This is where program managers are forced to ‘drop trou’ for management, covering technical goals, progress, performance and ‘issues’, as well as financial execution.  This is just part of doing business – and shouldn’t be a big deal.  The program managers are being paid handsomely in a tough economy, and reporting up the chain is part of their job…

It always amuses* me when the same people who complain loudly that “management doesn’t care about my program” will whine like abandoned puppies when management asks for an update.  Often the same crybabies who bitch because they never know what is going on, yet act as though the world has ended when you call a one-hour monthly staff meeting to run through “what is going on”.

One of our programs is in serious trouble.  Failure to deliver product, but more importantly, a two year failure to identify “what’s next”.  This is after several years of me – and several others – personally investing a lot of time to help them figure that out.  During the program review, this was all quite obvious.  The team leadership is going to be getting an assload of “help” figuring it out from now on. 

ST is the senior scientist in charge of providing tech guidance to the program.  He and i have worked together almost 25 years – at first, i was essentially his lab technician, but over time we worked well as near peers – me on the “outside” hauling down the research funding, him on the “inside” leading research teams.  He’s extremely smart, but a little quirky**.  Over the years, i’ve become somewhat immune to his loud and unpredictable outbursts when he doesn’t get his way understand the big picture.

Things apparently weren’t going the way he’d hoped on Thursday morning, as his stink bomb program was evaluated….  In one of the finer moments for an esteemed, 60 year old scientist, he violently threw his pen across the conference room to make a point.  A pen.  It made a sort of “tinkly” sound as it hit the cinder block wall. Our organization does not buy nice pens, but cheap plastic ones to save money.  Even worse?  He threw it sort of “overhand”.  Dare i say it?  Like a girl…

Semi-rhetorical question:  At what age is throwing a temper tantrum no longer cute?

* “amuse” in this context means “pissed-the-fuck-off”.

** “quirky” in this context means “socially and functionally retarded, having no table manners and an annoying tendency to walk into my office 5 seconds after sending an e-mail and saying ‘I sent you an e-mail’ – then proceeding to tell me what was in it for the next 15 minutes”.

Techno-geek giggles…

This week, i’m at a major technology forum, held smack-dab in the middle of Silicon Valley – THE technology mecca,  just 30 miles south of San Francisco.  This meeting is a true sausage-festival, with perhaps 25 women amongst the 500 dark-suited dorks attending.  Typical of such events was my first random encounter of the morning as i was elbowing my way to the giant vats of coffee in the back of the room:

Nerd:  Hey, you’re daisyfae!  Remember we met at Electro-Schlong Fest, 2003 in Cedar Rapids?  You gave a very funny overview of small, high-tech business strategies*.

daisyfae:  That’s right!  You were the middle-aged guy with glasses wearing the gray suit!  How could i forget?  [knocks short man with mismatched socks away from coffee urn to snag a lifesaving slug of caffeine]

Despite the armada of celebrants sporting Quantum Wood, there have already been quite a few laughs amongst my more twisted brethren.  The one that had me damn near squirting a suspiciously sticky cheese danish out of my nose was a shared e-mail exchange between two colleagues – one attending the session, and one back at the home office.

Titan of Industry (TI) is an old friend, who has done pretty well at the helm of a high tech start up.  Despite good business performance during the shitty economy, his company is getting just as hammered as everyone else in the current stock market massacre.  An employee back home sent him a note of condolence:

Employee X:  You said you were out this week.  If by any chance you are traveling by yourself on buisness and have been drinking from the minibar while watching CNBC, please get back off the ledge. 

TI:  I’ve just landed in the Bay Area.   It’s very strange – fires are burning everywhere, and there is the stench of death in the air. The citizenry is running around screaming for their lives as packs of giant Dungeoness crabs are scouring the countryside seeking human flesh!   Venture capitalists are stepping into the roadways, dousing themselves with gasoline, and lighting themselves on fire!   WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!   Dogs are sleeping with cats!   Oh, the humanity! Is this the end of days!?!

Employee X:  Truly devastating, I feared as much. Somehow though we will all get through this together.  Oh, don’t worry about the dogs and cats thing, that is normal for the bay area…

hur, hur, hur... *snort*

 * It’s not that i’m anything special.  i’m just an anomaly.  Amidst a sea of gray, blue, black and yes, even brown, suits, there is a long-haired creature with breastages wearing red.  They tend to notice… i’m blown away that at this particular dork-fest a mere 5% of the attendees have ovaries.  We actually counted about 25 1/2 women here.  Yes.  One was of indeterminate gender…

Innovatus Interruptus

From our friends at National People’s Public Radio, a fabulous nugget about creative thinking in an oppressive, bureaucratic and process-heavy workplace…  

First, take a look at this video, which runs just under 10 minutes.  Some folks at NASA captured cultural behaviors that stuffed innovation and creativity a bazillion different ways into next week.  Funny yet sad* – and true to many large organizations, whether you work in government, academia or the commercial sector.   And also, whether you’re building complex systems, or managing the daily operations of a medical facility, or managing a restaurant…

Short version (for those of you who are too tired, busy or “attention deficient” to spare the 10 minutes):  Allegedly bright young engineer brings forward a new design concept for a space craft, then is repeatedly told “not our job”, “not what you’re working on”, “we’ve never done things like this before” and so on… The script is a compilation of actual “Poo Poo-ing” delivered at Johnson Space Flight Center.  Poor kid is crapped on a thousand different ways, yet undeterred, she continues to press forward with her innovative concept.

My first reaction?  “Oh, yeah!  We gotta show this to the ancient boat-anchors, “Princess Poopy Pants”** and all the other creativity-challenged members of the “Nerd Herd” in my office!  The fossils who wouldn’t recognize innovation if it bit them in their polyester stretch pants, chewing clean through the frayed elastic waist bands.  

But what’s the alternative?  If we all spend our time “thinking crazy shit”, brainstorming until our brains fall out of our eye sockets and running down every rabbit hole of possibility?  We won’t do Jack Shit.***  Before i can trot this out – simply as an amusing “hey, guys — boy, don’t we do this sometimes? Ha ha ha…” awareness session, i need to have a better way… that magical balance of productivity and innovation.

Sure, we’ve got some bright folks – but if they pull some “creative” solution out of their clever little heads, and run with it?  We could end up with electrical engineers playing spin the bottle with hydrazine, blowing us all into nerd-shrapnel.  Watching the video again, i had to ask “but what does that kid really know about space craft design? What if she’s been hired because of her expertise in thermo-molecular computational modeling and happens to have found a spacecraft design in a lost episode of Star Trek?”

In times of juicier resources, we used to allow folks about 10% of their paid workday to just fart around, chase crazy shit, and think deep thoughts.  No pressure to deliver product, and a stated tolerance for “failure” – because in research if you’re not failing every now and then, you’re not really testing boundaries.  Or maybe we should just put shock collars on them… and keep the annoyances to a minimum?

 

* Giving them an “A+” for creativity, but i’ve seen better acting in amateur midget porn and the “Left Behind” movies…

** Genuine call sign for a senior scientist in my organization who can take a steaming dump on the best idea ever – simply by laughing in a geeky, derogatory manner and saying “You could do that, but it would be stupid…”.  Honestly?  i’d prefer her taking an actual dump than dropping that line at the beginning of a brainstorming session…

*** NOT an actual call sign for a member of the team.  But i’ll keep it in my play book for future prospects…

Dance Your PhD

Science is beauty. 

i’ve known this for years – but now the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) has put it into practice.  For the second year, AAAS is hosting the “Dance Your PhD” contest.  And the 2009 winners have been announced!

My personal favorite was also the winner in the graduate student division.  Take a look at this – just adorable!  Sleep deprivation reaches artistic heights never before achieved!  Oh, and if you open the “more info” link on the right of the youtube link?  You might learn a little something about the Role of Vitamin D in Beta Cell Function.

Geeks rock.  Fully.

Interpretive Dance of the Socially Ridiculed Polypeptides

More from John Bohannon, aka The Gonzo Scientist, here… including video from the inaugural contest in 2008.  Oh, and in a completely related note, i’m madly in love… (sigh)  He wants me.  He just doesn’t know it yet…