Despite aspirations of expanding my fields of interest and adopting new hobbies outside of technology, my day-to-day work gets done on a Mac. I’ve got a vested interest in the Macs continued survival, I’m one of those “truck drivers” that uses their machine for all it’s worth, and would have a difficult time transitioning to anything else. In my job I need to run shell scripts and build Docker containers, I need to ssh to Linux servers and RDP into Windows instances. I need to write, edit, and run Python code that connects to a database through a ssh tunnel. I need to do things that are either difficult or simply impossible with iOS, but are dead simple¹ with a Mac.

That’s why I switched to a Mac in the first place, someone had finally put a useable interface on top of a solid Unix core. The Mac community, especially the third-party developers, is why I stay on the Mac. I could get my work done on Linux, but my Lord, why would I want to? My degree is in human-computer interaction, I’d spend half my time ranting about the thousands of paper cuts in the user interface until I abandoned the GUI and ran everything from the command line, or a stripped down paneling interface. I’ve been there before. The Mac is a comfortable work environment that doesn’t skimp on capability like iOS does. Look deep enough into any of the iOS only workflows and nearly all of them are relying on outside computing devices of some type to get around what iOS can’t do.

But today we are once again hearing the death knell being rung for the Mac. This time it’s not because of an outside source taking over, but Apple itself who might simply decide that the Mac isn’t worth keeping around anymore. This is despite it being a profitable business, and being the sole source of development for iOS apps, and despite it being an industry leader in features and design, the tech media have decided that Apple is only a breath away from blowing out the Mac candle forever.

Well, we’ve been here before, right? It was before my time as an Apple user, but it’s my understanding that in the late ‘90s you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting on an industry “think piece” about the death of the Mac. Yet, here we are at the dawn of 2017 and the Mac is still here.

That’s not to say that it isn’t entirely possible that Apple might kill off the Mac Pro, or the Mac Mini. I wouldn’t be too surprised if neither of those products existed by the end of the year. But a new macOS-running computer of some sort is something I expect to be able to buy for the next three years, at least.²

Assuming the current Mac I’m typing this on lasts for the next three years, which it should unless I break it somehow, my next Mac should last for another estimated three to five years. Let’s just say I draw this out as far as I can and say five, that means I’ve got at least eight years of Mac use easily planned for the future. Which of us can look that far into the future and see what the computing industry or our lives will look like by then? Perhaps the iPad and iOS will finally have matured enough to make Macs truly obsolete, or perhaps my work requirements will have changed sufficiently to make adopting iOS full-time relatively painless. Who knows?

The point is, all this handwringing over the future of the Mac is overblown. We have years of macOS ahead of us. Apple is selling some fantastic Macs right now³, and I expect they will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Until iOS actually is better than the Mac, there’s no reason to think that any of us will have to adopt our toolset to another platform. The Mac is here, has been here, and from what I can see, will continue to be here for many years to come.

Part of what’s been great about using Apple products is the feeling of living just a little bit in the future. The Mac, iPod, iPhone, and iPad paved a way towards a far less complicated future, where technology was seamlessly integrated into our lives, and enhanced our day to day interactions with our work and with each other. Apple, better than anyone, understands that technology is at it’s best when it’s nearly invisible. But, living in the future comes at a price, namely a sacrifice of stability and accepted norms of what works.

Yesterday we were driving to see family who lives three hours away. About a half hour into the trip I got a Skype message from a friend asking for some technical help. After he explained the problem I knew how to fix his issue, but I needed to SSH into a server to do it. Unfortunately, I left my Mac at home, and had nothing but my iPhone. Undaunted¹, I setup a VPN and downloaded Prompt by Panic. This is where I ran into a problem. To SSH into the server I needed to get my private key². Prompt would use the key if I could get it copied into my clipboard, but getting it there turned out to be more of a hurdle than I could overcome.

I tried to get the key from BackBlaze, but the iOS client wouldn’t let me view the text of the key or to export it with a share sheet, it only told me the type of file it was, which was no help. I also thought that I might have a copy of the key³ in a zip file in my Archive folder under my Documents folder, and I recently turned on iCloud sync for my entire Desktop and Documents folders, so I thought I should have been able to get to the key from there. In what was probably the most frustrating technical failure of the night, the iCloud app refused to download any file, and any other app I had installed that also had access to iCloud also refused to download files or would simply freeze up and crash.

The point of moving documents into the cloud was to have them when I needed them, but when I did need them the system failed. To add insult to injury, when I wanted to look up something frivolous this morning the app worked fine. I’ve since turned that feature off. If I can’t rely on it, it’s not worth it having it turned on. I wanted to live in the future where I never had to think about having access to my data, where it’s just always there when I need it, but in this case, the future simply isn’t ready quite yet.

This fiasco caused me to think a bit more about what has and has not worked in technology in 2016. A lot of virtual ink has been spilled about virtual reality and self-driving cars, but neither of them are quite ready for the real world yet, not that I’ve seen anyway. Social media has allowed trolls to run rampant, sucked our attention reserves dry, and helped elect the single most unqualified president in history to the highest office in the land. Twitter and Facebook have had great years in the past, but 2016 was not one of them. I’ve withdrawn almost completely from both of them, but I’m looking forward to Manton finally unveiling micro.blog. Yahoo announced that they let over a billion accounts get hacked, the DNC got hacked, and the Internet of Things got hacked. Overall, not a good year for online security either. A great year to be a 1Password customer though.

2016 was a not-too-subtle reminder to be critical of the organizations and devices which play a role in our lives. A reminder that trust is easily lost and not easily regained. That the promises people make are not always the ones they keep.

So, what has worked? On a personal level, while I’ve been critical of my need for the application in the past, my experience with DEVONthink and DEVONthink to Go has always been exactly what the developers said it would be. I’ve never lost data, the new sync works reliably and securely, and the company continues to be active and responsive with their customers. I’ve left DEVONthink in the past, 2017 is the year I commit to it wholeheartedly.

My Mac, iPhone, and Apple TV continue to work well. I almost never have an issue with any device. The one issue I had with my iPhone was recognized by Apple as being widespread and they fixed it for me at no cost. My particular recipe for apps on my Mac continues to work well, although I removed Byword shortly after writing it to consolidate all writing in Ulysses. Speaking of which, Ulysses deserves a special mention as being rock solid, beautiful, and reliable. It’s my favorite writing application, probably ever. Likewise, Day One continues to be fantastic, and receives my highest recommendation for consistent, intentional journalling. There’s more that’s worked over the past year, things silently working along in the background, but these are the things that stand out to me.

I work in the technology industry. I’ve spent sixteen years (so far) studying where and how it fails, what works, what doesn’t, and how to get the most out of our investment. This year my optimism took a hit, and more things than I expected failed. In 2017, I’m looking forward to finding new ways for this tech to not only become more invisible, but more trustworthy as well. 2017 is not just about personal benefit, it’s about security and social conscience as well. It’s about choosing technology that works best for yourself, and for everyone involved. I’m looking forward to exploring exactly what that means as we sail into the uncharted waters of a new year.

From time to time I wonder if I could get by without any 3rd party software installed on my Mac. What would I have to do to adopt to not using the software I’ve become accustomed to? In no particular order, as of this moment I’ve got:

• Ulysses (For long-form writing)
• Byword (For blogging or shorter articles)
• MindNode
• Day One
• OmniFocus
• OmniGraffle
• OmniOutliner
• Transmit
• BBEdit
• Alfred
• Magnet
• Bear
• Reeder
• BackBlaze
• 1Blocker
• ScanSnap
• Debit & Credit

I also have a few apps for work:

• Cisco AnyConnect
• Docker
• Chrome
• HipChat
• Skype
• Microsoft Remote Desktop
• Sequel Pro
• SelfControl

Why would I want to do this? The idea of opening up any Mac and being able to get right to work without any setup is appealing, but honestly, how often do I move to a new Mac? Not very. And the apps that I do use are pretty easy to set up.

Some apps, like MindNode or OmniGraffle are almost impossible to replicate. And others, like Day One, offer so much more than built in apps that I wouldn’t want to move away from them. It’s possible that any third-party app might go out of business or be abandoned, but if I’m careful about what I choose I think I can be reasonably safe in trusting them.

Both the 3rd party apps and the built in apps are playing in a fairly level playing field. They use the same APIs (although the Apple apps get to use some private APIs), the same underpinnings, the same frameworks. The 3rd party apps are, for the most part, simply better done. Like Bear vs Notes for example. Bear is absolutely the better application. Beautiful, well thought out, and has useful features that Notes misses. And, Notes insists on using that ridiculous faux-paper background, and makes it difficult to change the font or font-size of the text. Bear is better, but Notes is built in. But Bear is just a quick trip to the App Store away, but sync costs $15 per year. But at least it’s a good business model that should keep them around. If not, Bear exports my notes easily, so I think it’s safe.

I think the unique mix of applications that are installed on each persons Mac or iOS device is interesting. It’s like a recipe for a good soup, some ingredients have more flavor than others. Some are fresh, some may have grown a bit stale. Some you can grow yourself. Everyone has their own recipe that works best for them, and by sharing we can learn from each other. Using only the built-in apps is like buying pre-made soup off the shelf from WalMart. You can live off it, but the good stuff is found elsewhere.

What could an organization comprised of some of the smartest, most driven people on the planet do with ten billion dollars in a year? Apple increasing their R&D budget five-fold over the past decade is interesting, but the numbers they are talking about are not uncommon in the rest of the tech industry. What I find noteworthy is the comparison with NASA.

It reminds me of the meager resources NASA had when they sent a man to the moon for the first time. We can accomplish amazing things when we put our collective minds to it. And what are Apple, Facebook, Amazon, Google, and Microsoft doing with their collective billions and billions of dollars in research and development? Building ever more immersive ways for us to share funny cat videos.

It bothers me in a way that so much money is spent on such frivolous things when there are real challenges in the world that our smartest people could be putting their minds to. Could a portion of those billions of dollars be spent figuring out how to get clean water to every person in the world? Or how to overcome drought by filtering seawater?

There are pursuits that are worthwhile and pursuits that are noble, and they are so often not the same thing. Every now and then though, they are. I think what Tesla is doing is both worthwhile from a financial perspective and noble in that by creating technology that relies on clean power they are benefiting everyone. It’s possible that a good sum of Apple’s ten billion is also going towards electric, self-driving cars, but we haven’t seen the fruit of that research yet. Meanwhile, NASA landed a probe on a comet.

This is fantastic, pure Phish. I’m so glad that they’ve just been getting better over the years.

Vibrating with love and light, pulsating with love and light, in a world gone mad, a world gone mad, there must be something more than this!

Perfect.

We humans are complicated creatures. I run for miles at a time, even though I’ve got nowhere to go, and nothing is chasing me, nothing but time and old age. Some people collect stamps, others watch birds; there’s no end to the ways that we occupy our time. Some people write stories, or draw, or paint, or make pottery out of clay. Some people write poetry. My daughter, my oldest, spends her time practicing the ancient art of dance.

Over the years that I’ve been taking her to dance practice and recitals, I’ve spent quite a bit of time pondering the significance of dance. Why do we do it? What sort of purpose does it serve? I’m reminded of Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society on why we read and write poetry.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

Poetry, beauty, romance, love… and dance.

Dance, a physical expression of emotion, the rhythmic movement of the human body. The endless, impossible pursuit of perfection.

To dance takes dedication and courage. It takes practicing before the sun comes up and finishing after everyone else has long gone to bed. It takes a willingness to incur injury in pursuit of your art. It takes being able to forget all that and have fun. To lose yourself in the moment, to revel in your ability, gliding from one motion to the next, emotions coming to form like firecrackers on the stage. Body and mind working together in unity.

As I’ve watched my daughter grow up over the years and explore her chosen pastime, I’ve thought deeply on the purpose of dance, and how easy it is for those of us with highly analytical and logical minds to discard or ignore the pure joy of artistic expression. I’ve seen reference to a debate over whether dance is an art or a sport. The question is wrongheaded, dance is both, of course. My daughter has grown to show poise and grace while on the lighted stage, performing before crowds that would freeze lesser individuals with stage fright. After every single performance I’ve seen I come away feeling more proud of her than ever.

This is her senior year of high school, which, one, means I’m officially old now, and two, in a few months she’s going to set out on her own big adventure. I know that with the dedication, courage, and ability she’s developed over the years she is going to be fantastic. While it will be bittersweet to see her leave home, I can’t wait to watch her start to fly. There will be hard times to come, as in anyone’s life, but through it all I hope she never stops dancing.

“Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.”

One of the surest ways I know I’m well on my way to crotchety old man status is not the grey in my hair, but my gut reaction to a certain tradition in our small town. To celebrate homecoming, our high school cheerleaders and dance team spends the night covering the high school football players houses, cars, and possibly yards with toilet paper, saran wrap, and plastic forks. They call it tradition, I call it vandalism, but, like so many other things in this tiny Iowa town, I’m simply outvoted.

One of the oddest aspects of this annual event is that it’s completely legitimized by the adults in town. Some of them even drive the kids around to the different houses. I know TP’ing happened when I was a kid too, but at the time it was done by kids who snuck out at night and did it knowing full well it was illegal and that if caught, they would be in somewhat serious trouble. Last year, one of the local cops helped the cheerleaders throw a roll of toilet paper at a house. It’s like the kids who used to do this on their own grew up and wanted to make sure their kids had the same experience, but in a safe, supervised way.

So tonight teams of cheerleaders and dancers will drive around the area, chauffeured by a few parents, and visit 28 homes. At each of the homes various acts of light-hearted vandalism will occur, throwing toilet paper over the house and trees, wrapping the cars in saran wrap, and maybe even filling up the front yard with plastic forks, known, I’m told, as forking the yard. The kids and parents involved say it’s all in good fun, and I understand that, what I don’t understand is who cleans up the mess after the night is over. TP makes a heck of a mess when it gets wet, and if it rains in the next few days some folks are going to have a heck of a time getting it off their homes and property.

Speaking of it raining, another prank that I’ve been told is reserved for those that really deserve it is to fill the front yard with a few boxes of instant mashed potatoes. After it rains, as I understand it, I’ve never seen this done, the potatoes absorb the water and cover the yard. I imagine the owner would have to shovel it out.

The kids have a great time and get to feel like they are breaking the rules, even though the rules have been temporarily adjusted, so they aren’t actually rebelling at all. I think that’s really where the crux of my issue with this tradition lays. It’s become phony, fake. Like mandatory corporate shuffleboard or trust falls. The kids aren’t really being rebellious; this is all pre-planned, packaged and vacuum wrapped like a lunchable. Sometimes I wonder if we are doing the next generation any favors by protecting them so much. There can be no bravery without danger.

But, it is all in good fun. No one gets hurt, no one is in trouble. No one complains about cleaning up the mess, at least no one I’ve talked to has. Maybe some of the kids from the teams have to clean it up, I don’t know. I’m just the grouchy old man who really wants the kids to stay off my lawn.

My favorite new-to-me site is Farnam Street by Shane Parrish. I’ve been experiencing a slow change of interests over the past several months as Apple and tech related news fails to grab my attention. The last time this happened I lost more than a professional interest in the open source community, an area I left years ago and haven’t looked back. I can’t find it in me to care enough about iOS 10 to read the book-length treaties on it at MacStories, in fact the latest iPhone or iOS barely interests me enough to learn what’s in it and if it is anything of use to me.

I just don’t care anymore. My tools of choice work well, and I’m comfortable knowing that there’s nothing better. Instead, I’m turning my attention to a topic that I’ve been dancing around for the past few years, but haven’t put a concerted effort into, something Cal Newport calls Deep Work. I’ve always been fascinated with how the mind works, and exploring the outer boundaries of the human brain. The psychology courses I took in grad school were among my favorites, and how we think about the world around us is endlessly fascinating.

Farnam Street is chock-full of insight into the human condition, where we fail, and how we can be better. Being a little better every day is exactly what I want to pursue, To that end, I’m in the middle of an experiment right now, once it’s over I’ll report my findings, but my thought is that after 30 days I’ll be more focused, happier, and more productive than when I started. Better.

I’m giving up a few things, and putting my energy into other things, but let’s leave that alone for now and return to this idea of areas of focus. I once considered myself a part of the Apple community. I was a developer for a short time, and a writer for a popular blog. I followed all the right people on Twitter, subscribed to all the right podcasts, and generally knew what was going on in the community of internet famous folks in the Apple community. I still do, to a point, but as I’ve stated earlier, I just don’t care about it anymore. One of the things I’ve given up is the thought that I’m going to be any more of a part of this community than someone on the outside looking in. I don’t have time for such juvenile pastimes, and this hobby was not actually making my life better.

I’ll dip my toes in from time to time to see what’s going on and see if any new developments are coming down that pipes that might make my tools better, but I’m not diving in and swimming in it anymore. Perhaps one day some online technical community will interest me again. Instead I’m taking a more realistic approach to my time, and turning my attention to those things that actually do make me a better person. My plan is to write about those things here.

I just started reading Cal Newport’s Deep Work and I’ve found myself nodding along in agreement through the introduction and first two chapters. His description of the environment needed for intense, concentrated study reminded me of a time I went through a period of deep work, one that is unfortunately difficult to replicate.

Eighteen years ago I was on my second six-month deployment to the Mediterranean on the USS Platte, an auxiliary oiler. It took us two weeks to cross the Atlantic back then, and once in the Med we would spend anywhere from one to three weeks underway between port visits. Everyone in the Navy has a job, and for the first three years I was in the Navy my job was Machinery Repairman, abbreviated “MR”. Along with your job designation, everyone in the Navy has a rate, and my rate at the time was E3, also called “Fireman”, so my title at the time was MRFN Buys.¹

I desperately wanted to make Petty Officer Third Class (E4), the next promotion level. The first three promotions (E1 through E3) are given as soon as you serve the requisite amount of time. The subsequent promotions require testing and a complex scoring system that ranks your performance through reviews. The Navy will have only a certain number of slots open for E4 in each rate (job), so sometimes even if you ace the test, you won’t be promoted because of the “needs of the Navy”. Machinery Repairman was one of those jobs that was saturated at the time. I had taken the semiannual test twice, and twice had not made petty officer third class.

I really wanted to make third. Higher rate meant better pay, and I was newly married with a baby on the way. Working in engineering meant that I spent a lot of my time working in the fire room, where the boilers and other high-pressure steam system equipment lived. It was always hot, I mean really hot, and there was no natural light. We worked in blue overalls with the sleeves rolled up, we took readings on the equipment on a regular schedule, smoked and hoped nothing would break. Sometimes, depending on what else was going on around the ship, we might have to split our shifts on watch down to six and six; six hours on watch, six hours off, and one of those six hours off we had to spend doing our main jobs. So for up to eighteen hours a day I was hot, sweaty, and covered in grease. To be honest, most of the time the rotation wasn’t quite that bad, but from time to time it would be.

When I’d wash my hands and face and head up to the mess decks for lunch or dinner, I’d meet up with some of the guys who had been on the ship for as long as I had who had made rate already and worked in Radio. They’d come down in their crisp, clean dungarees, shiny boondockers with a mirror polish, and complain about how cold it was in Radio. During one of these lunches I decided to cross-rate. The Navy has a system where you can apply to take the E4 test of a different rate. I made up my mind to cross-rate to Radioman, then, I reasoned, I could make rate and get out of the pit.

Cross-rating isn’t easy though. I had to learn an entirely new field of work, and I had to keep up with my existing responsibilities. I filled out all the requisite paperwork, got approval, and started to study. I got ahold of the Radioman 3 & 2 and a thick spiral-ringed notebook and started carrying them with me on watch in the pit. Between times when I had to take readings on the equipment, I focused all of my energy into learning everything I could about the rate, devouring the book while learning about wave propagation and transmitter and receiver theory. I talked some of the senior petty officers into letting me spend some of the time between watches or after my regular job was over up in Radio getting hands-on experience. I had two sets of uniforms in my rack, one for the pit, and one for Radio. I kept this up for weeks.

By the time the test came around, I not only scored high enough to make RM3 (Radioman, Petty Officer Third Class), I blew the test out of the water. The period of intense, focused effort resulted in a major change in my life. After I made RM3 the Navy combined the RM and DP (data processing) rates, creating the new Information Technician rate, who dealt with all of the ship and shore based communications and computer systems. Becoming a Radioman changed my career path from a machinist to what has evolved into devops. It was hard, but my life is immeasurably better because of the work I put in.

After making E4, I turned my attention to the Enlisted Surface Warfare Specialist. I spent the rest of the deployment learning about every facet of the ships operation, from the bridge to the engine room, from the main steam cycle to semaphores. I absolutely loved it. My last few months on the ship were the best. Learning how to apply myself diligently to achieve goals is a skill I wish I would have learned earlier in life, but once I did learn it I’ve been able to call on it when I need to. It can be difficult to isolate myself from distractions and focus as a remote knowledge worker in 2016, but I’ve never forgot the lessons of the pit. Hard work, sweat, and diligent, concentrated effort are the keys to success.

Overcast is moving to an ad-supported business model.

Ads are the great compromise: money needs to come from somewhere, and the vast majority of people choose free-with-ads over direct payment. Ads need not be a bad thing: when implemented respectfully, all parties can get what they want.

Overcast is the best podcast client I’ve used. Smart Speed and Voice Boost are fantastic features that Marco clearly put a lot of work into, so I hope he finds a business model that is sustainable enough to convince him to keep working on the app. Being able to say that though has taken some thought and introspection.

I’m envious of Marco’s success. He’s played all his cards right and he’s designed the life he wants to lead; he deserves the success he’s gained. ATP is my favorite podcast, and I used Instapaper almost religiously for years. He’s very good at what he decides to do, so I don’t think it’s any mystery at all that he is where he is.

And yet… and yet… like so many others in this community, I’ve struggled to come up with even one idea with staying power. I’ve released too soon, my ideas weren’t very good, or my execution flawed. As I look at turning 40 in a few short months, I’m finding it harder than ever not to grow bitter at how some make it, but most do not. It’s an unfair, harsh, and unforgiving world out there, and if you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth it’s unlikely you’ll ever know life without struggle.

Unlikely, but not impossible. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

I’ve watched Shawn Blanc grow from a part-time blogger¹ to a self-help coach, running three separate sites and recording online courses. Making enough money in a week to last for a year. Again, he’s smart, he’s found his niche, and he’s worked hard. It’s just not the natural human emotion to feel good about others succeeding where you have not. It takes effort.

Manton Reece talked about this a bit in his post “A great developer can come from anywhere”:

Daniel Jalkut and I had Marco as a special guest on Core Intuition 200 not just because he’s a friend but also because he so well represents the goal that many of us have and our listeners have — to start our own company, to find success not just one time but again and again, and to have as thoughtful an approach as possible in the craft of software development.

I’m tempted to quote the entire article. Manton makes the case that while some people dismiss Marco’s approach to testing as a privilege he enjoys as a byproduct of his success, this concept is poison to the community. Saying “that’s fine for Marco, but it wouldn’t work for the average guy” is giving yourself an excuse not to work as hard or push as hard as needed to make it. It’s important to remember that Marco’s success came after years of mostly anonymous work. And of course, success breeds success, he’s been able to build off of one to make a success of the next.

Manton ends his post by saying:

I’ll never accept the implied negativity in the “that’s fine for Marco” argument. I’ll never accept that we should be jealous of another developer’s success instead of inspired by it to do our best work.

My first reaction to the Overcast announcement was to post a quick tweet about not wanting to help finance Marco’s next Tesla, but that would have come from a place of jealousy and bitterness, not inspiration. Instead, I’m going to go back to my notebook, my collection of ideas, and look over it again.