Splitting hairs to stay friends for longer

It’s now the end of January and we’re well and truly into the year even if I personally (and many others based on some informal conversations I have had) am still waiting for final confirmation of my objectives for 2013. I’ve spent a fair amount of this month looking at the Virtual Sales Kick Off (VSKO) videos from the different business units in our company. We are renowned in the market place for being a highly customer centric organization especially compared to the likes of other technology firms such as Oracle or NetApp, and this theme is reiterated in virtually every recording. To this end, I think our customer support organization is indeed living up to that billing. However when I reflect on the other parts of the organization, I start to feel the need to draw a fine line between being client focused and being focused on a specific client opportunity. Admittedly both are better than some other places I have seen that are only focused on increasing the number of bodies that are employed by any given client regardless of the bigger picture or final outcome, but I still think that customer centric or focused means that you should be trying to understand who the client is, and the specific challenges they are facing in their industry at that particular point in time. That is a wider topic that just working every hour God sends to complete a comprehensive response to a potentially lucrative RFP that was released four weeks earlier. I don’t necessarily say that one is inherently more profitable than the other – there is a lot to be said for a strong sales-driven culture. However I can’t help but think that one approach gives rise to stronger more sustainable and longer term relationships.

Bionic, No, Banal Man – Part 2

When you grow up playing football at a decent standard, going to a competitive school, studying at Oxford and then working for Accenture for 10 years, you (or anyone else) don’t really leave yourself much time to be normal. However I honestly couldn’t have been happier than when I sat up from the operating table this morning after my eye surgery and heard Dr. Gauthier-Fournet say to me, “everything has gone fine, your operation was very banal”. I am banal, ordinary, boring! I can assure you that when it comes to matters of eyesight, then that suits me just fine! At that moment, if I hadn’t been so scared that it might have negatively impacted them, I could probably have even started crying my eyes out. As I sit here on my computer only a few hours later, wearing my Steve Wonder style sunglasses with my vision already massively improved (I keep having to remind myself that I don’t have my contact lens in), I am already confident that taking the plunge to have my eyes LASIK’d (Laser In Situ Keratomileusis) was the right choice.

Thankfully after I’d taken the decision to have the operation and had had the initial consultation at the start of January, I didn’t think too much about the whole thing. It wasn’t very “real” even when I was putting eye drops in three times a day earlier this week. It still wasn’t very real even as my friend Laetitia (what a super Mother Hen figure she turned out to be today!) picked me up at 8.30, and drove me 30 minutes to the eye hospital. The long wait after checking in just seemed like any other ordinary long wait, as did sitting in the patient’s waiting room after I’d donned yet another hospital night shirt, plastic shoe covers and a rather fetching little plastic shower cap. The sounding of the fire alarm which interrupted the rather annoying “let’s not offend anyone” Tracey Chapman style music in the background, was something of a relief, especially because the pragmatic French just carried on as if nothing had happened. However, shortly afterwards the nerves did indeed strike. Now it had started to get real. That said those nerves were pretty short lived because a young lady who had just had her operation came out and sat down next to us. She seemed to still be alive, and she seemed to still have her sight, indeed it was noticeably better than it had been 10 minutes earlier. When I asked her what had been wrong with her eyesight beforehand, she then proceeded to list a whole plethora of optical impairments. I stopped her after the fourth, my confidence had already been sufficiently buoyed – if they had managed to fix that blind coot then my operation was going to be a stroll in the park. Whilst I still couldn’t describe myself as being blasé by this stage, I did manage to sigh something that resembled relaxed relief. Unfortunately that was also short lived as the nurse came back two minutes later and proceeded to put some final drops in my eyes which stung like mild chilies. Two minutes after that I was then led to the operating theatre which was about 20 meters away. The operation itself was short, but sufficiently uncomfortable to be memorable. There was no arm round the shoulder, let’s look at your papers again before a final “into the breach once more” cup of tea, it was, “hello again, right lie down, O’Brien, Aidan right eye, focus on the flashing green light”. By the time I pointed out to him that I was here for both eyes, he had already inserted the little plastic discs that were to keep my eye lids where they needed to be, and telling me that yes he understood that, but that he was going to start with the right eye. Oh yes, well I’ll just shut up then and hold on for dear life (really nurse, there is no need to pin my arms down – haven’t you seen the nail marks I’ve already left in the handles either side of the bed?). I desperately tried to do everything to focus on that flashing green light although I couldn’t help but be surprised by the continued presence of the doctor. I thought it was “the machine” that did everything rather like when having an x-ray taken? There was however too much stuff going on which prevented me from working out whether or not I was reassured or concerned by the doctor’s continued presence. On reflection I think the biggest difference between this and last week’s operations (both under local anesthetic), was that hands and arms feel and the eyes see. When my arm was under local anesthetic its ability to feel was taken away. However even though the eyes were unable to feel, the anesthetic did not remove its primary sensory purpose of seeing. As a result I was a lot less serene this week – there was definitely no chance of falling asleep as I did last week and not just because of those bloody plastic discs.

At the end of the operation I grasped eagerly at my “banal report card” and tentatively started to believe that the immediate visual improvement I was seeing might actually be real. Obviously the result improves over the coming hours and days, but as I sat down again in the waiting room I quietly completed my little personal mental checklist; blind YES/NO, improved vision YES/NO, and on coming out with one YES and one NO (in the right order of course), I offered up a little prayer of thanks. That was washed down with a complimentary croissant and hot chocolate (yes, this is France still), and then I picked up my now redundant glasses before completing all the necessary administrative papers, and a final check-up to make sure that the flap on the lens that had been cut during the operation was sitting flat and now ready to start the healing process. 

The drive back home was lit up with street signs that sparkled with clarity and crisp letters. If there hadn’t been the risk of an exchange of nasty microbes which might have put the recovery of my eyes at risk, then I could have kissed my friend and chauffeur Laetita who had offered moral support and waited patiently for me throughout the whole morning. It is clear to me that the permanent optical improvement massively outweighs the inconvenience of a weekend of Steve Wonder sunglasses that make me look like the octogenarians that are everywhere to be seen in Biarritz (in fact I’m almost even looking forward to going to church on Sunday so I can “be one of them”). And although the whole operation cost in the region of 2500 euros, roughly half of that will be reimbursed by French health insurance companies. Amazing really when you think about it.

Phew, it’s over, job done. We're almost at the end of January and the physical stuff has been sorted out seemingly successfully, now I need to start working out what surgical interventions exist for my various personality disorders…

An Indian Winter?

I think it’s pretty well known that after having worked for Wipro and travelled there on numerous occasions, I have a bit of a soft spot for India and Indians – whilst the country isn’t as pristine as I might like, and without wishing to generalize about a population of 1 billion, I’ve never met a group of people who are so kind, welcoming and hard working. I always tend to read the various India related Economist articles when I find them. However there have been a few articles and a letter recently which make me wonder about whether or not there is a chill wind blowing over the country… This article confirms that winters are indeed getting colder in Northern India, http://www.economist.com/news/asia/21569439-north-indian-winters-are-short-increasingly-bleak-numbed-bones-choked-lungs However on a more philosophical note, the following article suggested that India is lacking something of a new political vision which is preventing it from carrying out the economic reforms that everybody accepts are necessary http://www.economist.com/node/21563720 And the positivity I felt after reading the more upbeat article about the reaction of middle class Indians to a despicable crime in Delhi recently (http://www.economist.com/news/leaders/21569031-horrible-attack-could-prove-turning-point-indias-women-rape-and-murder-delhi) was dampened when I read the following letter from Vineet Bewtra in London, especially the last two lines… “Sir – Your leader on the shocking gang rape in Delhi placed much hope on India’s emerging middle class to promote women’s issues. Yet the middle class themselves are just as culpable for the deeply ingrained gender bias in Indian society. A study published in the Lancet in 2011 by Prabhat Jha et al found that the selective abortion of girls had increased in the first ten years of this century compared with the 1990s, and that wealthier families and educated mothers were statistically more likely to abort girls. To paint the middle class as modernisers because they are better educated and earn more is naive. Cultural norms in Indian society run deep”. When you combine this with the general view that outsourcing and offshoring are going to go into reverse and that we will see more and more “re-shoring” (http://www.economist.com/news/leaders/21569739-outsourcing-jobs-faraway-places-wane-will-not-solve-wests), it all makes me wonder what the future might hold for India, especially because the evidence has shown that globalization is not progressing as fast as one might think http://www.economist.com/news/business/21568753-world-less-connected-it-was-2007-going-backwards). Has India missed the chance to make enough hay while the sun shone?

Cat skinning and reptilian micturition

Maybe I've worked for American companies for too long, but despite my inherent repulsion of corporate jargon, I do have to admit that I've always been a big believer in "win-win" situations, and the idea  that there are always "many ways to skin a cat"... However my recent trawling of back editions of the Economist have led me to modify that second phrase. I hereby propose a new version. I now think there are always "many ways to pee if you're a turtle"... http://www.economist.com/node/21564524

Bionic Man - Part 1

I’m a free man once again, a “titanium-free” man that is. The 35 minute operation at the Polyclinic d’Aguilera to remove a two year old metal plate from my left arm went well yesterday. And a rather nonchalant but business-like surgeon packed me on my way this morning as I stood in front of him in my throwaway hospital underpants with my razor in one hand and shaving foam covering half of my face (no fear of my morning ablutions disrupting his morning round).

As ever, it was an interesting 36 hours in the hands of the world renowned French health service. The quality of the medical care was clearly very high (from reception staff to nurses to anaesthetist to surgeon), although neither the food, nor the 1980s style décor of the two bedroom unit where I slept were in the same league. In fact it’s really quite interesting to see how the hospital has changed over the six year since they repaired my arm after the first break… In short: food worse (or have my standards just increased?), medical care much improved (e.g. local rather than general anaesthetic for the same operation, and a more aesthetically pleasing scar after the fourth operation), nursing staff – the same, literally – when the nurse this morning said that he recognized me from before, I suddenly thought I should probably stop breaking things (that’s not true, I actually through I’m glad I’ve bought an air jacket which means I have significantly reduced the chance of serious injury when riding horses). On reflection, maybe the nursing staff isn’t exactly the same – this is the first time that one of the (female) nurses offered to help wash me in the shower. They were never so forward in the past, or was it just because I’m now older and more wrinkled? At any rate, it’s just a shame it was the wrong one…  

A couple of other things also dominated this latest stay with the infirmières. The first is that after my recent Facebook clean up, the social networking site along with Frankie Boyle on Twitter, really helped me pass the time and keep family and friends up to date with events. Hopefully I wasn’t guilty of the TMI (too much information) syndrome… On balance, I think that next time I won’t have any requirement to spend the additional seven euros which grants one access to very poor French daytime television. The second thing that struck me is, in these austere times in a country which hasn’t balanced its books for over thirty years, is the amount of waste and inefficiency; why, if one is required to use 60ml of disinfectant for a pre-operation shower, is it supplied in 250 ml bottles? I really need to be buying shares in whichever company makes Betadine rouge 4% scrub. The other thing which shocked me was the grey-green form that was handed to me as I left which officially gives me the right to remain off work on virtually full pay until February 10th (even despite the fact I told the doctor yesterday that I had no intention of stopping work). If you don’t fancy working in this country unfortunately it’s all too easy… Anyway, all’s well that ends well… now to do some babysitting (I have had a whole day off you realize; surely you don’t think Sandie has planned any time for convalescence in my schedule do you?!) and prepare for next operation on my eyes next Friday.

Bob the Genius

On the subject of doing or not doing things yourself, check this story out. Top marks for originality... http://www.theregister.co.uk/2013/01/16/developer_oursources_job_china/ 

Bring On Film On

If I thought the Nebraskan and the Chinese had changed my life, then my old friend Neville has probably just rocked the worlds of both me and Maxime... www.filmon.com - finally Maxime can get cbeebies on the internet in France. As for me, not only can I get all my favourite UK programmes such as MOTD, X-Factor, the Inbetweeners etc... I also discovered that Film On also offers not one, but two, "bikini channels". From the sublime to the ridiculous, but at any rate, Maxime and I have many hours of Makka Pakka and Gary Lineker on the large screen Apple Mac ahead of us...(although surely having Channel 4's "The Undateables" on in the background whilst I do Facebook updates and work emails is absolutely unnecessary).

If it’s worth doing, then use the Chinese, safer than the Afghans…

My Dad’s latest maxim is that if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly. He also told me that he now reads more book reviews than actual books. Whereas I’m still trying to work the first idea, I have to confess that I’m probably exactly the same as him on the second point, especially ever since I managed to get over the bad habit at work of always practising “if you want something done properly (or in my case, perfectly) then you should do it yourself” (I hear many of the same former Accenture analysts now shaking their head in disbelief). The latest book review I read, or more precisely film review I listened to (yes I am so lazy or “time-poor” that I now even rely on film reviews for my opinions and yes I listened to the review using the audio edition of the Economist whilst driving because I don’t have time to sit in a chair and read for pleasure), was for Zero Dark Thirty (http://www.economist.com/news/books-and-arts/21569006-obl-thriller-has-landed-american-night and http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1790885/). I was quite taken with the review. Given the fact that the last au pair Jessica changed my life with 1channel.ch (free video streaming website) and the fact that 2013 has started fairly quietly for me for various reasons, I decided to grab the technological bull by the horns and watched the film last night despite the fact it was only released on January 11th! Apart from the obvious horrors of waterboarding and Bin Laden, the film brought two key things home to me. Firstly, that as much as I can get passionate about what I do, there are people in life who have jobs that matter much more than mine. And secondly, despite what I might think as I travel through my sixth airport of the week, there are people in life whose jobs do not let them lead such a balanced lifestyle as my own. A film well worth the 2 hours or so…

Design infiltrates the boardroom

Many people at work frequently rattle off the maxim of content being more important that format. Whilst I have never said that content wasn't important, I always felt that one should also pay attention to the look and feel of documents and information - for me it was a sloppy cop out if you didn't do both (I hear many of my former Accenture analysts nodding ruefully after having learnt that lesson the hard way with me). Indeed I always thought that if you could present information concisely and professionally, then there was a good chance you had spent more time thinking through the content. I also remember blogging about Daniel Pink's A Whole New Mind book (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Whole-New-Mind-Right-Brainers-Future/dp/1905736541/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358169562&sr=8-1) where he said that design is one of the key things which will enable right brained people to rule the world. If only I was right brained...When I joined my current company I was extremely excited to find that they had a real user experience (UX) group - finally a way to present technology in a cool way (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/User_experience). The following article seems to suggest that this view is now moving into the mainstrean...http://redmonk.com/jgovernor/2013/01/07/on-the-importance-of-design-at-ibm-love-and-margins/#ixzz2HxMCDxcy. Some of my choice quotes from this article are "I am fond of saying that The Best Packager in any Tech Wave Wins and Wins Big. Great UX is a function of masterful packaging. Its not about building the best components but doing the best job of integrating them; so from a CEO perspective (if) you’d want to increase value without increasing investment – design is potentially a means to do just that: refactor the corporation; IBM certainly isn’t alone in recognizing the power of better design. Design is finally breaking into the boardroom; Samsung has underlined its emphasis on design as a differentiator by making former Creative Chief Choi Gee Sung its CEO last year; and, IBM now has a General Manager of Design, a role across all 400k employees and all business divisions". This feels right. Wouldn't it be great if I could help EMC harness this to make one of its three key messages in the market place work better...

Rain, 4 points and a bowl of sick

It may not sound like it from the title of this post, but the weekend was an extremely good one apart from a sick little girl at the end of Sunday. We got back to Biarritz on Friday for a series of appointments about some work we’re doing on the house and at the hospital ahead of the operation to remove the metal plate from my arm next Friday. I should have known that it was going to be a good weekend when the French anesthetist was on time for his consultation at 6PM on a Friday evening...

Saturday was focused on a day of show jumping in San Sebastian in Spain. It was the first competition of 2013. I was keen to go because over the winter I really felt that Pich and I had made some serious progress (despite me also feeling sure that I’d said that before). I really wanted to see if what we were doing in Orthez could be replicated in a real competition. Thankfully the news was good. Whilst we did have one bar down (my fault), no-one could deny the fact that Pich jumped superbly and that there was a huge difference between what we achieved yesterday, and what we have been used to over the last two years. There’s another competition again in Spain in mid-February so we’ll see how quickly I can get back in the saddle after recovering from next week’s arm operation. Yesterday was also the first run out for my new personal “air-bag” – a rather sensible middle-aged gift I bought myself just before Christmas. Check out http://www.point-two-airjacket.fr/ to learn all about it, and also look at the short Karim Laghouag – championnats d’Europe video to see why it’s probably not a bad investment (http://www.point-two-airjacket.fr/videos.php). It’s just a shame that my coach, Michel, wasn’t wearing his when he took an uncharacteristic tumble in the afternoon and broke a couple of ribs as a result.

The plan for Sunday was to get out and about in and around Biarritz but heavy rain for most of the day put paid to that. Because it’s France, Sunday was lunch at the in-laws. I personally thought the duck and foie gras was excellent. However Gaston came out in a rash three hours later and Capcuine has been vomiting ever since. Her first projectile effort came whilst she was in the bath with her brothers. Maxime was extremely displeased. As he climbed out of the bath in disgust, he severely scolded his younger sibling at the same time as peeling half-digested magrets and canard cuisses off his little torso.  Gaston sat on looking vaguely perplexed still trying to work out if he was hungry enough to eat the little floaters. If managing that little watery circus wasn’t enough, I then had to pack the car in the rain. After that I had just time to tumble dry my jacket before we set off for Pau. For the next two hours poor little Capcuine did an admirable job of combining sleeping with dredging up seemingly endless quantities of bile (her little stomach long since empty). I had opted not to drive, meaning I had the pleasure of multi-tasking the mopping up of Capucine, and the feeding of a MacDonald’s happy meal to the other travelers in the car. Life at the head of a little family surely doesn’t get much better than that. Thankfully Capcuine’s now sound asleep, although I doubt she’ll be at crèche tomorrow. 

Multi-tasking vision of a bleak or bright future

Japan's lost decade and economic collapse in the 1990s and 2000s is well documented (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_Decade_(Japan)). Some have wondered whether or not we in Europe (and the US for that matter) are headed for a similar fate following the 2008 crash in the western world. Thankfully some say no, check out http://www.slideshare.net/IndraPratama6/japan-lost-decade-vs-us-ez which gives a good summary of the differences, on the other hand some such as Paul Krugman say that the Japanese policy response is potentially much more effective than our own; http://krugman.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/01/11/is-japan-the-country-of-the-future-again/. All I know is whilst riding my bike this afternoon in my garage, at the same time as looking after the sleeping babes, I started to thumb threw a few back editions of the Economist. I stumbled across this article from September... http://www.economist.com/node/21563765. All I say is that wherever we end up, I hope and pray I'm never asking Sandie for my pocket money to go out drinking. 

Quiet platitudes

It's very traditional to wish people a "Happy New Year", and if you didn't, you'd no doubt be considered as being most rude. However it annoys me that the phrase is uttered so frequently without any real meaning or genuine intent. As such I have taken it upon myself this year to ask someone what would constitute a good 2013 for them each time I wish anyone a "Happy New Year". The responses have been most interesting, although the one that keeps popping up over and over again (especially at work), is "serenity".  It seems like the overriding unscientific finding from a non representative section of my circle of acquaintances is that people want to stop living at a hundred miles an hour and to have some peace and quiet in their lives. Interesting. Given that I am still waiting to understand the exact nature of my professional responsibilities in 2013, at least I can say that I am living that dream of many - I've never cleaned or fed so many small children as in the first ten days of 2013 although I'm sure my Air Miles count won't have suffered too much by the time December 31st rolls round again. 

Ryanair blonde

I'm not sure where or when it went wrong for Sandie, but this evening she tried to book a Ryanair flight ticket for her and Maxime. Admittedly Ryanair's website has won many awards for being the worst website ever, and is widely accepted as being way too complicated to use, but when she turns around and asks me, in all seriousness, "my first name is Sandie, right?" then I can't help but think Michael O'Leary isn't completely to blame. I thought women were only meant to suffer a hormone induced loss of common sense during pregnancy, not for a period of up to 26 months after the birth... She's now lamenting the fact that technology and the internet have moved on so much that her grandmother would be incapable of buying a plane ticket. Maybe I should stop blogging and put her out of her misery. Right, where's that shotgun.

Papy John Fix

I think Maxime must understand that Papy John and Mamy Moi are about to head off to England for 3 months. For each of the last four mornings the first thing he has said as he has stormed into our bedroom before daylight has been, “what time am I going to Papy John’s?” He’s clearly looking to get his his grandparent fix (and quite possibly a fix of pizza and chocolate pancakes as well). Things even went so far as when he said to Sandie this morning that he hated his current family and that he wanted to be part of Papy John’s family. Sandie carefully explained to him that he was already part of Papy John’s family because he was his “petit-fils” (directly translated as “small-son” or grandson). He took great offense at this and rapidly exclaimed that he was not small, but that he was actually “moyenne” (translated as “of medium size”) now that he was 4 years old. We’re now going to head off to see our estranged son at Mamy and Papy’s so I’ll be interested to see what type of welcome we get…

The future’s bright? The future’s globalized?

One of the thoughts that has been festering in the back of my mind during this festive period has been the kids’ future in what I think will be a more globalized world despite the recent findings of the DHL Global Connectedness Index (http://www.economist.com/news/business/21568753-world-less-connected-it-was-2007-going-backwards). It seems obvious to me that as a parent you want your children to be in a better position than the one you find yourself in, not just in terms of financial rewards, but also in terms of opportunities plus other dimensions of their lives e.g. sport, travel, comfort, housing, music, friends, love etc. The other, often underestimated, part of this equation is that it is me, as a parent, who is setting the baseline of their expectations. This is a significant responsibility. I can’t help but think that if I am lucky enough to be able to provide a comfortable and happy existence for the children, then surely I should also be ensuring that they also have enough opportunities as they move into the adult world otherwise they will never be in a position to surpass the current existence that I have carved out for them. The obvious question then is that in a nation who enjoys penalizing high earners despite the limited financial gain to the rest of the population, of surly shopkeepers on who you almost have to thrust your custom, and of cobblers who refuse to mend zips on a pair of riding boots because “it’s a pain of a job”, is France really the best place for the kids to get the opportunities and experiences that will be necessary for them to compete in what is likely to be a more globalized, cost conscious and competitive world than the one today? Interesting Christmas conversation with the in-laws I can assure you.

Facebook Cleansing

As I sat in front of the tail end of Christmas holiday television, I decided on some root and branch Facebook reform. Inspired by the example of my Dad who carefully manages a very exclusive list of friends, I decided I would “unfriend” many of the random connections (groups and people) that had made their way into my virtual life over the last few years. For a long time now I had found logging into the site somewhat laborious despite what everyone else waxing lyrical about it. I always felt like I was wading through legions of irrelevant guff before stumbling across a nugget of interesting information about someone I was actually interested in. So I removed about 100 contacts and the end result is that I am now experiencing something of a Facebook renaissance – it’s actually quite a useful way of keeping up with people! If only real life were so simple!

Mrs. Pot

It was only the third day of 2013 when Sandie made my year…I nearly choked on my Basque Piperade (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piperade) when Sandie said, in all seriousness, “What I hate in life is people who you can’t say anything to because you don’t know whether or not they will fly off the handle”. Priceless. Thankfully she was in good enough of a mood for me to try and explain some famous English idioms to her such as http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_pot_calling_the_kettle_black

A year of contraction

In my waistline that is. I had my annual self imposed weigh in this morning - I tipped the scales at 76.9kg a whopping 600 grams under the weight recorded this time last year if my memory serves me right. Obviously it's nice to have some sort of stability in my weight given the job and kids etc. However I did start to wonder what might be different on January 1st 2014. I think the major difference will be that I will have worked out how to really use all my new Garmin gadgets to the extent that I won't be monitoring or comparing just weight, but also things such as body fat, cardiac rhythm, average speed achieved on the bike etc. I don't think that I'll be measuring the number of strides per minute nor the power output of each, but I do think my Garmin inspired revolution of personal health data will continue. Long live technology! And maybe this is a better way to ensure I don't have to renew last year's New Year's resolutions which were, "So, for me, in 2012, I have decided to eat less (by refusing second helpings, which increases the importance of the first helping obviously, and eating no desserts in the evening), and to do 50 sit-ups and press-ups per day (on the clear understanding that if I manage to do this until the end of the first quarter then we can consider that resolution achieved)."...