My kingdom for some music

I've been in a bad mood for two straight days, largely due to work-related issues. This morning, I decided to stop whining about it and to do something about it:

That's right, I cranked up Radiohead on my laptop.

Radiohead, Wilco, Pink Floyd (OK, that one sent me for the razor blades to finish it all off :-), The Magnetic Fields, Morrissey, The Cult, Neil Young, etc. I set iTunes to shuffle mode and, an hour later, I feel better.

Perhaps had I lived a hundred years ago, I'd have had the same experience with Bach (still do, actually - his organ music is amazing), Haydn, etc. But I'm grateful to live now when I don't need a full symphony to enjoy music. I just need a radio, CD player, or MP3 player.

There are very few things as uplifting as great music. Where else could I hear things like Morrissey's beautiful "Now My Heart Is Full"?

Tell all of my friends
(I don't have too many
Just some rain-coated lovers' puny brothers)
Dallow, Spicer, Pinkie, Cubitt
Rush to danger
Wind up nowhere
Patric Doonan - raised to wait
I'm tired again, I've tried again, and

Now my heart is full

Sounds silly when you read it, but when you hear it...? Beautiful.

Or this from Bob Dylan?

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

We will listen to Radiohead, Dylan, Zeppelin, and crew in heaven. I'm sure of it. What else would I do?

Work, yes. But I'm writing here that all work and not enough music is depressing. Give me work with an interlude of U2, The Shins, Indigo Girls, or something like that and I can put up with quite a bit of drudgery.

Gardening can be hazardous to your health

Little did I know when I started a tomato and pepper garden in our backyard that I was going to upset some denizens of the weed forest that had been occupying the space since our wildflowers got out of control last year:

Ants. Lots of ants.

I wasn't too worried initially because, hey! They're just ants. Yes, I've seen the new Indiana Jones movie but no, I have yet to be carried down a hole by a mass of rabid ants so I figured I was safe.

That was until I went out to water my plants the other night. I knew there were ants crawling on my leg but, hey! They're just ants. So I kept watering letting my little friends climb. I felt some light pinches but, hey! They're just ants. I didn't want to upset my little friends so kept watering.

The next day, I decided to take a flame thrower to the colony because I woke up with these marks (see graphic picture of ant bites and, yes, my leg hair at right). "My little friends" apparently hate me, and I now hate them. I will be watering them with gasoline tonight.

Or maybe I'll practice ahimsa instead. Look how far it got me with them last time. :-)

Tranquilizer darts

Lily hit the wall on the way home. She's always a bit like The Joker, even on her best days, but when she gets tired...ouch.

Tonight was one of those nights. She and Greta kept looking at each other, and occasionally would poke each other (which is better than biting the side of Isaac's head, which is what Lily did before church today), until both were in a frothy whirlpool of anger, whining, screaming, and lunacy.

It's at those times that I dearly wish someone would sell parental-grade tranquilizer darts. Shooting them out of a gun would make it fun, but I'd even sacrifice and shoot them out of a blowpipe. Anything to stop the madness.

Either that or we need to get a limo so that I could simply raise the privacy shield and leave the kids in the back to tear themselves apart. But the darts sound like much more fun.

Never trust nice people

Amazingly, every one of my siblings married into families that are much nicer than mine. I was thinking about this tonight while reading through my siblings' blogs, reading about their angelic in-laws. (My own in-laws aren't angelic - my mother-in-law has been known to drop the "H" word if you get her upset enough, though whenever she attempts a swear word it always sounds rusty in her mouth and she's so apologetic about it that it ruins all the fun.)

I've never trusted nice people. I mean, I like people to be nice, but not that nice. It's like Scout, my daughter, said of one of the teachers at her school that everyone raved about because she was so nice:

I don't trust her, Mom. She's too nice. No one is that nice.

Jen and I nodded knowingly. That's our girl!

I warned our neighbors when they moved in a few months ago not to expect much from us. "We're lame," I said, "and pretty antisocial. This may well be the last time you see us for a few years." (No, I'm not making that up.)

Of course, we had them over for pie and ice cream a few days later. But they knew we were serious when we sent Greta over. She now drops by at least once a day to see if their six-year old can play. Greta knows how to be cruel with her kindness. Very Asay-like. :-)

My mom, in some odd way, has managed to be in the Asay clan without becoming "of" the Asay clan. In other words, she has managed to not become infected by the Asay cynicism genes. I'm sure she's a spy for nice people everywhere who are trying to figure out why Asays don't show up for social gatherings and instead glower at home. Unless you're born this way, however, you just can't expect to figure it out.

So, if you happen to see me at a conference or elsewhere, don't be surprised if I leave early. It's nothing against you. I just don't know how to deal with nice people.

Maybe the Dark Knight wasn't that bad, after all

I spent the evening over at my wife's parents' home. In the midst of discussing road rage, meth moms, and the usual Sunday night fare over at the Minster home, someone brought up The Dark Knight.

It turns out that Jen and I were the only ones who found it morbidly dark. Well, not just the two of us, as one Wall Street Journal reviewer agreed with us:

Elsewhere in the film, entertainment is a function of one's appetite for shock (the elaborate action sequences are pounding but arrhythmic, like extended cardiac seizures) and a kind of awe at the spectacle of a city seized by unremitting evil. The Gotham City of Mr. Nolan's "Batman Begins" was no slouch as sinkholes go, but "The Dark Knight" turns it into a moral Sargasso. ("This town," the Joker jokes, "deserves a better class of criminals.")

It's hard to hold to that perspective, however, when my sweet mother-in-law (whose only bouts with anger seem to be when someone - anyone - has wronged her daughters in any way, including ways that they deserve :-) speaks soothingly of Dark Knight I know that it's probably my moral compass that must have it wrong.

I hope that I'm wrong, as it will be really sad if I can't spend the next year mimicking the Joker at family parties. It will give me an alternative to playing card games, board games, and the myriad other sorts of games that they mostly play after I've gone to sleep at 8:15 PM.

Or maybe she didn't know those were real bullets the Joker was shooting into his henchmen's chests?

In sales, everyone knows you're a dog

There's a famous cartoon in The New Yorker that mocks web anonymity:



You can be anyone you want on the Internet, apparently. In real life, it's a bit harder to masquerade as someone else, though in business, depending on your job, you can fake it for quite some time.

Not in sales.

A colleague, Michael Uzquiano, reminded me of something that Garrison Keillor once said. Keillor wrote, as Michael related to me, that he first decided to be a writer because, in fiction, no one could tell whether you succeeded or failed. This is very unlike, say, the high jump in the Olympics where everyone knows whether you are over or under the bar.

There's no room for fiction in sales, either. It's all "high jump." I manage half of my company's sales team. I don't rate myself as a particularly strong sales leader, but I'm still on the hook for particularly strong sales results, no matter what. There's no way to bluff a sales number. It's either $X or it's greater or less than $X. To find out whether I'm doing a good job or not, my CEO simply has to look at the sales number to see if it's > $X, where $X is the agreed upon quota.

Dealing with this brick wall - otherwise known as "reality" - has been one of the biggest blessings and curses over these past (nearly) three years at Alfresco. I have grown more as a business executive in these past few years than I did in the previous years doing "strategy" and other such frothy positions I've held.

I've also struggled more. Every quarter the numbers get bigger. Every quarter it gets harder and harder. Every quarter it becomes clearer and clearer whether I've done well or poorly. So far, so good. But you're only as good as your last quarter in sales, making it a high-stress job with limited emotional reward.

Just remember that when you look down your nose at "sales guys." Unlike most other professions, they actually live under the constant stress of being completely "naked" in their performance. Show some compassion. Please! :-)

Daddy's going to work. See you in a week

My kids have gotten so used to seeing me work from home that it was comical to hear Lily's interpretation of me working anywhere else. "Work" either means sitting with my computer on my bed with a headset on, or it means an airplane.

Today I broke the mold a little. I had a meeting this morning in downtown Salt Lake with my Utah-based sales team. As I was walking out, I had this conversation with Lily, my three-year old:

Lily: Where are you going, Daddy?

Me: I'm just going to work.

Lily: You're going to London?

I had to explain that I'd be back in a few hours....

Or maybe she was just hoping I'd be leaving?

Just when life couldn't get any better...

...Scout wakes up (late) this morning to tell me that Cornelia Funke has written a third book in the "Ink" series. It doesn't come out until October, but it's called Inkdeath and will almost certainly have Meggie and crew rescuing Dustfinger from death. If you haven't read Inkheart and Inkspell, you really should. I've been reading them to Isaac, but I would have read them on my own had Scout told me about them earlier.

The premise driving the books? Written (and read) words have a life of their own.

In the first book, Mo (aka "Silvertongue") reads some nefarious characters out of one of his favorite books (and accidentally reads his wife into that same book). You can watch the trailer for the upcoming Inkheart movie here (though I'm very disappointed in the casting and direction of Capricorn, who appears to be a bit of a clown in this, but is relentlessly evil in the book). Watered down? I hope not (though I could do without something quite as perversely dark as The Dark Knight).

In the second, Meggie and Orpheus read the characters into the book, for various reasons and to good (and bad) effect. Fenoglio, the author, discovers that he can alter the future with a few words, but that controlling the full array of consequences is somewhat more problematic.

It's a very clever idea, and has been one of the best series I've read with the kids. You should give them a try.

Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Hleb

I'm very pleased to announce that Alexander Hleb has left Arsenal. I liked Hleb and he was an excellent player, but his whining for more money really bugs me. He's on his way to Barcelona where, no doubt, he'll continue to not score any goals.

For that last reason, even more than the money, I'm glad he's leaving. Arsenal has no shortage of exceptional ball handlers. What we need is people that will shoot the ball.

Ironically, one of Barcelona's big problems last season was a dearth of goals. Surprise! You guys just compounded your problem. Enjoy.

So much for sleeping in

I was up past midnight last night, updating my company's CRM system. I figured I'd sleep in and so blackened out the windows of my children's rooms.

At 6:36 this morning, however, Lily walked into my room asking where everyone was. Now we're hanging out.

I guess that's what it's called when I'm trying to scrape myself off the ground from fatigue, and Lily is running around.

Note to self: Go to sleep earlier, no matter how pressing work seems. The kids simply won't care how late I was up.

Teenage inventions

I was driving with the teenage boys from our church today and they were comparing their ideas to get rich (because, as one told me in deep sincerity, "Asay, I've decided that I have to be extremely rich because I don't like living poor"). It was interesting to see how their ideas emerged from daily struggles their families or they have.

To wit:

• Vitamin-laced cigarettes for people who can't quit smoking. Sure, you'll still die of lung cancer, but at least you got that zinc along the way....
  
• A medicated pillowcase that kills acne while you sleep.

I hated to tell them that showering and washing their sheets on more than an annual basis could go a long way toward easing the acne of the second idea, but let them dream. They're still young.

Maybe we don't want another child...

We are a family of routines. I think that probably stems from my anal-retentive nature, but it has come to define significant aspects of my little family.

So, it's perhaps not surprising that the addition of my niece, Iris, to our household routines this week has dropped a wrench into the cogs. Iris has actually been really good - she's a mostly mellow girl who wakes when we wake, and sleeps when we sleep. For those who have hung out at my house, you know that bedtimes are sacrosanct.

Iris has been good. All the same, it's been interesting to watch what has happened to the family dynamics with her addition. Lily and Greta normally play pretty well together, but since Iris apparently admires Greta so much, Greta has dumped Lily in favor of her fan, Iris. Lily, in consequence, has been left on the sidelines and tends to express her displeasure through various pitches of whine.

Greta and Iris use the same cereal bowls...but Lily had to use an alternative. Whine! Greta and Iris sleep in Greta's room, but Lily has to sleep downstairs in her room. Whine! Greta and Iris want to watch X but Lily wants to watch Y. Whine! And so on.

In other words, the routines have stayed the same, but the interpersonal dynamics behind them have changed significantly. I expect this will be amplified today when Iris' sister, Willa, joins us. It will be interesting to see who whines most now....

One thing is clear: Now is the time to stop by to visit. When you offer to help, I'll already have asked Scout to load all four of the youngest kids out in your car. Have fun!

If Muse is played loud enough in a minivan, is it still a minivan?

Sorry, I can't help myself. I was driving to my in-law's this evening with my four kids, our minivan cranking Muse's "Starlight," a family favorite. Isaac, Scout, and I belted out the best part of the song (while Lily screamed that she wanted to hear "Video Killed the Radio Star" instead):

You electrify my life
Let's conspire to re-ignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive...

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations

It almost feels like Dostoevsky singing those last two lines. What a great song. You can listen to it here.

Little things like great music make life worth living.

(Yes, I know that I was driving a minivan. That's why I had the music up so loud. I was trying to pretend that I was cool "again." You know, that one-week period during high school when I was cool? At least, that's how I like to remember it....)

The in-law antidote

People who know me from work never seem to believe it, but I'm pretty antisocial. Just ask my in-laws. They've been dealing with me since 1993, when I started to write to Jen from Belgium. Eighteen months later when I got home, they still thought I was nice. It was only when I actually married into the family that they discovered that I'm a bit lame as a brother-in-law.

Kathy (my mother-in-law) wanted a "Steve" (mythical child/perfect son). She got me instead.

Now, my wife's family is quite chatty. I won't say it's because it's a family of six daughters, lest I be accused of being misogynist, but...it's because it's a family of six daughters. As such, though I've managed to band together with my brothers-in-law, it still crimps my style to be asked to play endless board games and generally have to pretend to be a loving person.

Today, however, I discovered a perfect antidote: Fatigue. I went on a two-hour mountain bike ride in the morning, then worked in the garden for another three hours. I had to inject Diet Coke into my veins to stay awake on the drive down to my in-laws' house, but it proved to be the perfect preparation for the evening. In my fatigue, I found myself doing all sorts of odd things, like talking to people and smiling.

One person, however, wasn't fooled by "the new Matt." Iris, my niece, kept an eye on me, even during the blessing on the food, as shown here. She always was a smart girl....(By the way, she's also a beautiful little girl, though her suspicious face isn't her prettiest face.)

Neither were my two youngest. True to form, instead of watch fireworks I used Lily and Greta as in-law shields to provide cover for heading home early. Some day it's going to be odd when I try to use my 16- and 18-year old children as excuses to leave early from family gatherings, but I'll take it while I can.

Not that anyone is fooled. They used to try to convince me to stay. But then they realized that life is better for them when I go home early. Jen, the fun side of the Asay home, always stays. So did Scout and Isaac. Me? I'm going to sleep.

See, I told you I'm antisocial. My neighbors called to see if I wanted to watch the fireworks outside. I told them I was watching Lily and Greta.... :-)

Kit and Depression

To escape, if only briefly, from the perils of blogging on CNET, I took my 11-year old daughter, Scout, to see Kit Kittredge tonight. Nothing like pre-teen escapism....

I really liked it though, oddly enough, I found the movie a bit frightening. I hadn't realized that Kit was a child of the Depression, and so the movie centered on the Depression. I suspect the movie softened the era somewhat (who wants to send a group of 11-year olds for the Kleenex and Paxil?), but I found it disturbing all the same.

Jen and I recently decided to start budgeting again, and actually holding to our budget. (Shocking thought, I know.) After watching the movie, I was on the verge of selling our car to save more money. I've had family members out of work for prolonged periods of time, and dearly hope that our mild recession won't deepen into something stronger, and more destructive to the morale of the United States.

I suppose after years of rampant consumerism, we probably deserve it. But that doesn't make the thought any more pleasant.

Kit got through by writing for a newspaper. Maybe my blog will come in handy, after all.

For anyone reading this that is out of work, if I can be of any help, I will. Again, I've seen close family members go through unemployment, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. About the only thing I'm good for is opinions on software and connections to people who can employ others.

Poor Germany

I already felt really bad for Germany, getting spanked by the Spaniards (I, of course, was rooting for Spain, as Fabregas and a few potential Arsenal players play for the Spanish national team). But I felt really bad when I saw this.

It's OK to celebrate. But come on, guys! Have a heart. :-)

Good as in "G"

We went and saw WALL-E last week and loved it. It was almost astonishing, it was so good. I can't remember the last movie that I saw with such a dearth of dialog and yet a wealth of feeling. Pixar is amazing.

Tomorrow I'm going to see Kit Kittredge with Scout. I'm told that by doing daddy-daughter things like this Scout will one day hate me less than she otherwise will. While a comforting thought, I'm not sure how I'm going to get through nearly two hours of American Girl.

Yet Kitt, like WALL-E, has received fantastic reviews. I'm impressed: Two G-rated movies in a month that Hollywood has managed to release, and both of them (apparently) quite good. I'd go see a lot more movies if I could count on not having to wade through all the rubbish (Sex, violence, profanity, etc.).

It's not as if that stuff is required in order to make a good movie. The Spiderman movies have been excellent (well, except for that last one, which was lame, but that had nothing to do with bad content and everything to do with bad writing), and I can hardly wait to see The Dark Knight. Many of my other favorites manage to be good without being bad. For those that insist on including the bad, I just get an edited copy. I've never felt like I was missing anything (except for Good Will Hunting which apparently edited out 99 percent of the movie :-).

By the way, you probably don't care, but if you want to know what's in a movie before you see it, use Screen It. It's a great service. I don't think I'd want to be the person who catalogs (in excruciating detail) a movie's offensive content, but I appreciate the service. I know exactly what I'm getting into before I go (though Jen tells me that reading the report is so detailed that I might as well see the movie :-).

Whitehurst reaches out

I'm feeling lucky to be able to have dinner with Jim Whitehurst, CEO of Red Hat, in a few weeks. It's not that I'm special, but that he has been making a point to get around and talk with a wide range of people in the open-source world. This is just one of the get-togethers he has been hosting.

Matthew Szulik, for all his many virtues (and I'm a big Szulik fan), didn't do this. At least, not much. Perhaps he never needed to or perhaps it wasn't as easy because at one time Matthew was basically alone at the helm of an open-source company. It never seemed to hurt Red Hat.

I think Jim's approach is right for the current open-source market. It's growing and diversifying. We can't afford to have an isolated Red Hat, no matter how successful it may be. We need more dialogue. I don't think open source will get much further in isolation.

It needs to happen opportunistically, of course. I'm integrating Alfresco with Zimbra right now because it makes a lot of financial sense, given the overlap we have in the Higher Education market, for example. But there probably can be a little bit more than crass materialism involved in open-source partnerships. Just a little bit more. :-)

Anyway, it's good to have Jim at Red Hat. He's doing a good job. Let's see if he can bring the open-source market together.