Eyeing the iPhone

I've always wanted a phone without a keyboard, and HandSpring actually delivered one back in 2001:


But it didn't sell as well as the version with the keyboard, and as a result, HandSpring never evolved its design for a keyboard-less phone. Instead, that path was taken by Apple and has led to the much coveted iPhone.

I confess that I am among those who covet the device, but I have hesitated in buying one. It's not the price, as I feel the hardware and technology is worth it. It's the 2 year commitment to AT&T that gives me pause. Coverage for the areas I frequent is spotty and I would certainly lose coolness points as I run to just the right spot in the office and start speaking loudly to overcome a bad connection.

Sadly for me, the iPhone on the AT&T network would be too much like driving a Lamborghini on a pot-hole ridden road.

Best compliment a software developer can hear...

"It's kinda' boring. We were hoping to see a little more action..."
-- an operations manager at a major stock exchange

A group of us recently completed a major rewrite of system that I like to describe as "greasing the wheels of capitalism". I can't go into details, but the point is that the system has been running uneventfully since its release. That's music to this software developer's ears.

We -- software developers -- should all strive for such a compliment... unless you work at Apple, in which case the last thing you want to be is boring.

The Princeton Graphics VL1919

I needed an inexpensive lcd for an aging PC. My next computer might have a built-in display (a notebook or an iMac) so price was a major consideration. For $220 at Costco (in-store purchase only), the Princeton VL1919 got my attention.

Physically, it's a slim attractive monitor. It has both analog and digital ports, and includes cables for both. I have an analog graphics card and the picture quality is quite good for watching dvds, home photo editing, and playing games. The VL1919 is not, however, a display for graphics pros who understand white point and need to adjust their gammas. The viewing angle is too small for a 19" display and the shift in color would be unacceptable to them.

As a software developer, I work mostly with text, and the VL1919's 0.294mm dot pitch made words appear a tad grainy. I could, however, compensate and "soften" the characters using the phase control on the OSD.

The OSD itself was awkward to use. Contrary to the documentation, there is no quick way to adjust the brightness or contrast; rather, I had to cycle through the menus. Also, the power button is in the middle of the 5 button row, and more than once I accidentally pressed it while working the menus. Better (more expensive) displays offset the power button to the right or left.

The display offers stereo sound with built-in speakers. They're better than the typical mono speaker in the PC chassis, and good enough for watching clips on You-Tube. They also save desk space. But music lovers, movie buffs, and gamers who rely on 3-D sound are better off with external speakers.

I may sound critical, but I really like the VL1919. With its thin bezel and affordable price, I bought a second one for a dual display setup.

Update 2/18/2007: 

The graphics card does affect the display quality, so I thought it might be helpful if I specified my hardware:

• Primary Adapter: AGP Diamond Viper 770D, 32MB
  
• Secondary Adapter: PCI Number Nine Revolution3D, 8 MB
  
• Operating System: Windows 2000
  

The Mandatory "Optional" Meeting

I was young at the time. My manager had called an optional meeting for later that morning. Since it was optional, I had planned to stay in my cubicle and bang away on the keyboard; I had bugs to solve and code to write. Later, a colleague came by to fetch me. "Didn't you know we had a meeting?"

"Yes," I replied. "It was optional."

She had an exasperated look on her face, as if I should have known better. Off I went; I wasn't rebellious, just naive.

The good news was that the manager never called a mandatory "optional" meeting again. The bad news was that I would continue to encounter similar goofiness throughout my ongoing career in software.

Ring out the Old, Ring in the New?

While I look forward to the three new Treo models due out this year, I have no intention to ring out my old T3. I like to take care of my stuff.

After 14 months of use, my T3 lost two of the four screws along its sides. I found replacements -- four for $4.95 -- at InfosystemsPro. It's probably cheaper from a local hardware store, but the right size screws are hard to find.

I am testing my T3 as a USB drive (a T5 capability) with Softick's Card Export II. I haven't decided to register the software yet, but for $14.95, it lets you drag and drop files between your T3's SD card and your desktop (Windows, Mac, or Linux).

And don't forget, you can rotate your T3's screen with a touch of a button (like the LifeDrive). It's available for $5.95 from yours truly.

Happy New Year!

Yam Technology?

I had briefly considered naming my company Yam Technology (Yam is my last name), but quickly realized how mistakenly popular I could become during Thanksgiving.

"Can you send over a 50lb bag?" "Do you mash?" "Do you have recipes?"

Yam Technology could also be mistaken for a large and serious agri-genetic concern, and it disturbed me that I could be thought of as growing mutant potatoes. So I settled for the more playful Y Technology.

I spend a good deal of time with computer people and our collective sense of humor leans unambiguously on the dry side. Here's hoping your turkey isn't and your bottle of red is. Cheers!

Why Technology?

It's the name of my company -- Y Technology -- and also a good question to pose now and then.

I worked briefly at a company that used a hand scanner, partly for security, but chiefly as a time card. The technology worked well enough, identifying me correctly on the first attempt almost every time. The implementation, however, was flawed: the hand scanner stood between our desks and the restroom. It was company policy to scan in and out when you arrived in the morning and left in the evening, and also for lunch. This policy was later changed to include bathroom and cigarette breaks(!).

It's no secret that some people don't wash their hands after using the restroom, which made slapping your palm on the scanning surface a good way to spread all sorts of germs. It was also a good reason not to eat lunch at your desk.

The solution to this problem was decidedly low-tech. I carried around a small bottle of Purell Hand Sanitizer.