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The magic of human flight

One of the topics I touched upon in my botched Ignite Phoenix presentation was the magic of human flight. The theme of the talk was The View from the Window Seat, which was mostly about perspective. One of the perspectives I described was the magic of human flight. I had a wonderful slide to illustrate the feeling. It showed a young boy staring out an airplane window in awe. I didn’t need to show a photo of a typical perspective. Just imagine a business traveler, checking his email on his blackberry one last time before take-off while wondering why the hell the flight is 7 minutes late. Louis CK had a popular rant about this. Instead of being amazed at the fact that we’re flying through the sky at up to 500 miles per hour, we’re often fretting about how little our seats recline or how much the seat in front of us is reclined.

I always try to get a window seat when I fly. I always stare out the window during take-off and landing. I try to force myself to maintain the perspective of someone who is flying for the first time. I try to be that kid. I try to see the magic of it all, even though I’ve seen it hundreds of times.

This perspective can be applied elsewhere. In a way, your daily happiness can be proportional to how easily amazed you are. I envy people who say “wow” to things I take for granted.

Human flight truly is a magical thing. Just one hundred years ago, the richest and most powerful people in the world—kings and emperors—couldn’t do with all their spoils or slaves what I can do for the cost of a day or two of work.

I was reminded of this today while reading a book recommended to me by my friend John Murch. It’s called, “Eat People: And Other Unapologetic Rules for Game-Changing Entrepreneurs.” I’m only a few pages in, but the author starts by saying these rich and successful entrepreneurs actually got rich by making everyone and society richer. While walking through a museum, “some wealthy dead French guy’s house,” the author remarks that he would never trade places with that rich guy, adding, “this guy was one of the richest in the world, but he’d be considered living under the poverty line in our day.”

While the book will surely go on to make a different point, I couldn’t help but reflect on the idea that we cannot and should not take for granted the magic and wonder of the world around us.

It’s all about perspective.

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A Job’s Return on Investment

While I absolutely loved working in the advertising field, where you constantly experiment and create new things for name-brand clients, there was a downside. It’s a cutthroat industry, where all agencies are trying to do at least one project with any major brand so they can have a more impressive portfolio. This leads to super aggressive promises to “get your foot in the door” with a new client. By the time you’re done breaking your back on your first project with a new client, they’re shopping around for the next agency to out-low-ball you.

As a developer, you’re a resource. A cog in the machine. The more work they put on your plate, the later you work and the more you get done. But with all this undercutting going on, you end up working too hard for too little.

It was well worth it for me, at least at first. My life changed once I had completed that project for Mazda & Quiksilver. My portfolio went from having nothing to having a cool looking project for major brands. The difference between 0 and 1 was immeasurable. They could have paid me nothing and it would’ve been worth it to me.

But what’s the difference between having 10 and 11 name-droppable clients in your portfolio? The value of that 11th client, I realized, was miniscule compared to the 1st.

When you’re listing the clients you’ve worked with, people stop paying attention after about 4 names. By the 7th, they start thinking about how pompous you are. By the 9th, they start thinking about how to ditch you.

When I had this realization, I started to think about what I was getting in return for all the hours and and sweat I dumped into my work. That’s when I realized my days in the ad world were numbered.

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Dropout

I dropped out of college twice. I used to say it was to make it count.

Where I stand on education is complicated. I did what was best for me and my career, and it’s by no means the right answer for people in different positions.

My decision to drop out was based on a number of factors.

First, I’m not a scholar. I always despised homework my D in high school Trigonometry was due to scoring the highest in my class on tests while not turning in any homework assignments. In high school Algebra and Algebra II, I was constantly scorned for not showing my work (or enough work). Where we clashed was that I valued the result and they valued the process. If I understand something, it feels like a waste of time to walk through elementary steps over and over. My educational career was doomed.

While in high school, I got a computer. It sucked me in. I didn’t go to parties. Instead I was at home, on the computer, learning. With a strong background in logic and math growing up, I was well suited to do visual programming. Code-driven animation, interaction, complex effects, physics, video games, etc. I taught myself Flash, with the help of online tutorials and forums.

I decided to get a degree that would help ready me for a career in video games or special effects in video.

Here’s where I lucked out. Because I had become proficient with Flash, I could jump into a lucrative field that flexed similar brain muscles: interactive web development. I had no experience and no degree, but I had years of code samples. I sent my experiments to a local interactive advertising agency, and they decided to give me a shot. They put me on a project that they could assign to someone else if I couldn’t pull my weight. My first commercial software development project? A co-branded microsite for Mazda & Quiksilver.

People who had the degree I had yet to earn would be lucky to land a job like that. The piece of paper doesn’t mean much in some circumstances. Instead, where I was also very fortunate, I was good at something visual. I could *show* my abilities. Then, once I started lining my portfolio with major brands, I realized I had a stronger job-seeking arsenal than any degree could provide.

It was quite a profound realization to have at the age of nineteen.

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Stranding Yourself

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Half way up the mountain, overlooking downtown Charlotte Amalie to the South, along the highway that takes you to Magens Beach on the North side of St. Thomas, rests a cozy hotel with a marvelous view. Mafolie Hotel.

I landed in St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands on a Saturday afternoon, after a long, three-leg, red-eye trip from San Francisco. Friday afternoon, I was trying to come up with a place to sleep in San Francisco when I just got the urge to jettison myself to some island somewhere. My friend Chrystall had said I could crash at her place in the British Virgin Islands any time. Out of the blue, I send her a direct message via Twitter to the effect of, “Hey, mind if I crash on your couch? Like, soon?” She said yes, so I double-checked flights.

“Okay, I’ll be there tomorrow!”

Sunday worked better for her, so I ended up having a day to kill in St. Thomas. I booked my flight with a half dozen hours of notice and decided that was enough planning for one day.

Fortunately, I got adequate cell phone coverage in St. Thomas. Upon landing, I asked myself, “What now?” I searched online for a hotel. Something cheap. Near downtown. But not too ghetto, so I opted for something that was $20 above the cheapest.

Book it. “Taxi!”

Couch surfing is tough, especially considering I only stay with friends and I hate feeling like I’m intruding. I’ve been wasting too much time and energy figuring out where to sleep each night, and decided I should just get away from it all so I can focus on me and my work.

While at the hotel bar, I asked the bartender if she knew of any cheap weekly or monthly rentals in the area. I was in luck, because the peak travel season hadn’t picked up yet and the hotel was still offering long term leases for a few more weeks. Instead of $125 per night, which is way too expensive for a month, they offered me $350 per week ($50 per night) if I stayed for at least 3-4 weeks.

Book it. “Ferry!”

A few nights couch surfing, with Chrystall in the BVIs, a short ferry ride away, and then I’d be back in St. Thomas for 3 weeks.

I thought it would be nice to lock myself away for a while and work full-time on my own thing. A bunch of people have told me this is a common desire. I was living their dream.

Honestly, it wasn’t that great. Good, but not great.

Despite becoming more reclusive during the last couple years, the biggest thing I was missing was socializing with fellow technologists, and all the excitement, motivation, and inspiration that comes with it.

I struggled to put in fully productive days, but luckily forced myself to take breaks and get some sun. I hardly left the hotel, pool, or hotel bar, mostly because going into town was an expensive hassle and almost nothing down there interests me.

The food at the hotel was way too expensive for my budget, so I made use of the mini-fridge and microwave. I drank a lot of fruit juice and ate a lot of microwavable ‘healthy choice’ type crap. (#startuplife)

The view from the hotel really was spectacular. The list of applicable adjectives could go on and on. Being able to work with such a magnificent backdrop is amazing and very fulfilling, especially when the seaplanes were taking off and landing. But ultimately, the isolation was rough, draining, challenging, and I realized I need to come up with a better way to work. I definitely need more balance and a better atmosphere.

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Posting via Android

I just installed the WordPress for Android app on my phone. I found myself posting long form posts (1 or more paragraphs) on Facebook or Google+, and then copying and pasting it to the other. Going forward, I would prefer to post about my work, life, and travels here, and let Twitter, Facebook, and Google+ be the “data exhaust” for people who are connected to me there but don’t read my blog. Google+ doesn’t allow writing via their API (they don’t WANT to be data exhaust, having learned the hard way with Google Buzz), so I’ll have to figure out a way to get all or some of my posts over there without too much work.