The other shoe drops...@twitter

A couple of weeks I wrote an affectionate farewell to the Goog, where I hung my hat for a long time. Today, I've landed at my next new thing: Twitter. I'll be working closely with the marketing & comms teams (and probably a few others) in a new role: editorial director. As you might guess, it will involve a fair amount of wordsmithing as well as nurturing a consistent Twitter voice across our public messages and information pages.

I've been enamored of Twitter for a good while now, and am both pleased and amazed at how its value and influence have grown in an incredibly short time. Count me in what promises to be an extremely fun ride — and I'm sure you'll let me know how the Twitter voice works for you, or doesn't. Just give me a small window before you start with the heavy feedback!

And of course, feel free to follow me @kvox.

Wickre ankles* Google

After 9 years in the trenches, my last day at Google was Thursday. This long stint marks a personal best with one employer, handily beating my last record of 4 years (IDG). In my pre-Google life, I tended to get bored after a couple of years. Now, it's clear that when I'm talking about my career, there will be two phases: Before Google (BG), and all that follows. I say this because working at Google really and truly is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and never boring.

If you know me you know "starry-eyed" isn't the first descriptor that comes to mind. But trust me: Google is an astonishing, life-changing place to be. Of course, its (incessant) output has changed the lives of everyone who searches the Internet, has an Android device, uses Gmail, Maps, Apps, and all the rest. In fact much of the work Googlers undertake has a huge impact on the world, which, let's face it, is not something most workplaces can offer.

At the risk of sounding ancient, I remember a time before there was good search (or before there was an Internet, but that's another story). The emergence in 1999 of a funnily-named service with a plain page that "just worked" was nothing short of miraculous. Even more astounding: that fast, accurate and efficient search mechanism still works 13 years later—today with billions of people performing surely tens of billions of searches in dozens of languages. We all still expect—and we still get—accurate results in nanoseconds, now on multiple devices in umpteen locations. It is nothing short of awesome. The core Google search team, led by the wonderful Amit Singhal with able veterans like Ben Gomes and Matt Cutts among many others, are real heroes.

Even for a peripatetic type, it hasn't been hard to stay at a place like Google. The benefits, as you've heard, are great. It’s certainly fun to work for a company, and this is my first, that absolutely everyone knows and virtually everyone loves. And then there are the people. From the start I fell for the friendly, informed, wry-but-curious worldview shared by so many of my colleagues. I've felt true and lifelong kinship with people very unlike me in nationality, age, education, and interests—it’s a veritable United Nations. If you are sensitive to such things, being a Googler can make you a citizen of the world. I'm a better person for it.

Since I was inside so long watching Google grow up, I’m struggling to characterize what is second nature to me now (like breathing out and breathing in). Let me try to distill a few elements I think the Goog offers.

Wisdom of the crowds. One example: Google has thousands of internal email/discussion lists for product teams, affinity groups, technology news, and an untold number of interests (chess, politics, photography, music, dogs, Burning Man, etc etc). There is a wonderful self-managing quality found on all of them. It’s a joy to meet and kibitz virtually with smart people. The best of these discussions do what Google does: point concisely to useful information, clarify answers, summarize, suggest next steps—and build virtual friendships. (There’s also crowd-wisdom to be found in teams, where everyone is free to have thoughts and suggest ideas that get serious consideration. And no small number of these succeed.)

Questions are valued. At the Friday all-hands meetings called TGIF, Googlers famously ask about everything from benefits to facilities to geopolitics and public policy; Google Moderator is used to solicit questions from those not in the room. Such questions are rarely softballs. Questioning product development or strategy (even about what’s already underway) is fair game. The point of asking is to understand better, raise unconsidered angles, improve on something or bring it to light. The assumption is: asking > information > exploration > greater intelligence > better outcome.

Humor is a strength. Googlers are typically very funny. They savor irony, they quip naturally, they make knowing jokes, and jokes have layers. April Fool’s hoaxes aside (even these are quite cerebral), there is a humorous sensibility that makes much of the work more pleasurable and improves the output of ~30,000 people. (Because there is an equal measure of earnestness among Googlers, thank god humor is a vital attribute at the office. Without it, the air at Google might be too thick with sincerity.)

Creativity is encouraged. Googlers are often quite accomplished in their outside pursuits, which range very widely— from photography and music to Maker Faire and Burning Man to chain mail, wine, and comics. Many avocations are celebrated with company exhibits, talks and meetups. Quite a few of the eulogies about Steve Jobs mentioned his belief in the intersection of liberal arts and technology. It’s a byword at Google too.

Agility is key. Perhaps the most significant skill I absorbed, and the one that will help Google as it continues to grow, is to stay limber. It would be easy for an unbelievably successful company to start codifying The Playbook and refer to that and that alone for all future roadmaps. Much credit goes to Larry and Sergey, whose very natures seem compelled to question past (often successful) approaches in favor of bigger new ideas. As work, so life: I think it’s infinitely more rewarding to be mindful and alert to the swirl than it is to rely on the bound volume on the shelf. As a work environment, of course, that doesn’t suit everyone. It can be messy, things never seem finished, there are long beta periods, you have to turn on a dime. To me, there’s no contest between this kind of ‘foolishness’ and a staid place where the checklist is tidy and the work is rote. Give me this road!

As for what comes next, I’ll write again in a couple of weeks as I plunge into an exciting new realm. Meanwhile, all thanks to Google for the amazing, memorable ride. I am lucky.

*I’m a long-time fan of the ‘slanguage’ of Variety, and at last have a reason to use “ankles” in a hed.

The 3-Day Komen walk in Seattle

Last weekend I went to Seattle to fulfill my 3-day Komen Walk with two friends, Harriet Baskas and Lisa Siegel. As I wrote earlier, we had a bunch of reasons for walking: to honor friends who had died, to celebrate those, including Lisa, who are surviving, and thriving—and to support further breast cancer research. A huge amount of progress has been made even in my lifetime, and the more support and community brings to bear on research and treatment options, the more positive outcomes there can be.

These fundraising walks are designed to be cheery, and when you add in "breast" you get acres of pink in the forms of ribbons, boas, tiaras, leggings, tutus, sneakers, and much, much more. Though I'm not much of a joiner or cheerleader, I really did enjoy the team get-ups, like this:

Of course, this kind of effort is a very personal one for many of those walking or crewing. It was common, and always touching, to see people wearing home-made signs commemorating their own loved ones: a grandma, mom, aunt, sister, best friend.

The walk took us through parts of Seattle I knew (Pioneer Square, International District) and parts I didn't know (Magnolia, swaths of Bellevue and Redmond). It was exciting to cross the I-90 bridge to Mercer Island, and to cover ground in some of the wonderful local parks. Most of all, it was great to spend time walking with friends and banter with kindred spirits along the way. The locals were great, too—cops and firefighters who volunteered their time to join or crew, friends and families who came to designated cheering stations to greet their walkers, and some, like this woman, who popped up every day on the route to offer her drumbeat. (She was great. Here she is with Harriet, who knew her.)

Besides the team outfits, there were slogans, puns, and bad jokes galore—one of the things that makes these "good cause" events so much fun. Some we spotted:

• "The original happy meal" (on a silk screened T-shirt featuring a pink bra)
• "Leave It to Cleavage" (team name)
• Moms for Mams
• Breastie Boys 
• "Big or small, we love them all" (supportive men!)
• "Honk if you love ta-tas"
• Testicles for Chesticles 
• the Half-Racks (my vote for best team name)

And there was this, surely an instant classic:

As for our metrics: Our team of 3 raised $10,175 from 112 people. Thanks to everyone who chipped in to help us reach our (required) goal and then exceed it. It's a terrific feeling to see the energy and generosity that emerge for such causes and community events. As for me, I'll look forward to further support for this and other vital causes (though I admit it: campaigns shorter than 3 days are mighty appealing) Even so, I'm very glad to have seen this one through.

Here's the Komen organization Fact Sheet ("Why We Walk"), and their summary of the Seattle event.
Finally, if you crave more pink, here's my photo album. Enjoy, and onward!

Komen 3-Day Walk, Sept 2011

Walking for breast cancer research

I recently signed up for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day 60-mile walk in Seattle September 16-18. While I'm usually not a joiner however much I support a cause, these walks are designed to raise awareness as well as money, and they offer great community spirit across the country. Eleven years ago my friend Ellen and I walked for our college friend Lucy, who died at 49 after 11 years of dealing with breast cancer.

Since then other wonderful friends have died; even more have been diagnosed and/or are living with the effects of breast cancer. My good friends Harriet and Lisa, who live in Seattle, decided to walk in honor of our dear mutual friend Mary Catherine Lamb, who died in 2009. And then earlier this year, Lisa was diagnosed. Fortunately her early stage and fast surgical response mean she is now cancer-free. So I decided to join them in gratitude for Lisa's survival and in memory of M.C.

In my life, more women I know have died—or lived—with breast cancer than any other threatening illness. These wonderful women are now gone from my life:

Letitia Brown

Lucy Wicks

Ellen Olinger Longsworth

Jennifer Lovejoy

Lynnly Labovitz

Mary Catherine Lamb

I'm walking for them, and equally important for friends who continue to survive, and thrive. Thanks to major advances in research and treatment, there are millions who do. Some of my friends in this camp:

Lisa

Sandy

Barbara

Marcia

Ingrid

A generation ago the number of those diagnosed who lived a good life after a breast cancer diagnosis was dramatically smaller, treatments were more extreme (and caused plenty of other problems). There's been a lot of improvement, as this post by a male breast cancer survivor attests. And as you might expect, around the world, treatment does improves with income and education (see data guru Hans Rosling's explanation).

All of this gives me determination to help more. I'll update now and again here on my progress. Here's my personal donation page on the Komen site where you can support me/the walk. (Don't forget corporate matching!)

One more thing regarding Komen: Charity Navigator gives them a 4-star rating (most income goes to program activites, not administration & overhead).

Thank you so much for your support.

My TED list of favorites

I was happy when the TED folks invited me to be one of 20 curators of book picks for the bookstore at this year's conference in Long Beach. One of life's simple pleasures as far as I'm concerned is organizing information into a list and annotating it! So the same thing I sent to TED, which is now on display at the bookstore (though this is the full list; they didn't stock all of these). Just for kicks I threw in a few forever-favorite movies too.

They asked for a short profile and rationale for what I chose:

I’m a reader, writer, art collector and Internet lover. I’ve lived in San Francisco for 25 years, and work for Google, where I search and find every day.

If I had to pick among my rooms full of books to a single batch, what would I keep? I picked titles that speak to some of my passions: art, words, technology, and real life. This mix gives me heart, makes me laugh, helps me understand, lets me dream of what has been, is, and could be.  (Ditto for the movies.)

When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present. Gail Collins, Back Bay Books/Little, Brown, 2009.

In her unmistakable “just between us” style, Collins wryly documents the astonishingly fast and deep changes that American women (and therefore men) have experienced in a generation. Her story is a compelling reminder that things that are “givens” really don’t have to be.

The Uncommon Reader: A Novella. Alan Bennett, Picador, 2008. There are numerous collections of Bennett’s inimitable personal stories and characters, and every one is wonderful. This imagined tale is not so different in that we share the point of view of certain quirky, practical, droll people who lead rich interior lives - in this case, the Queen and her household. Also recommended: any of Bennett’s audio readings and the performances with the world-class actors who play his characters. Every one gives you the tangy sweet and sour only he can do.

52 McGs: The Best Obituaries from Legendary New York Times Writer Robert McG. Thomas Jr. Scribner, 2001.

Reading good obits is like discovering a hidden stained glass window: You get a designed view into a life and a world you couldn’t have imagined. McG was a master at “raising the dead”, especially for unsung eccentrics who make the world so wonderful.

Death Sentences: How Cliches, Weasel Words and Management Speak are Strangling Public Language. Don Watson, Gotham Books/Penguin, 2005.

“Even as English spreads, the language is shrinking.” In this slim book Watson examines the dangers of obfuscation and bullshit language in the realms of politics and business like nobody else. I send this book to wordsmith friends for ammo.

Most of The Most of S. J. Perelman. Modern Library, 2000. S.J. is my go-to for heady and richly layered humor writing. There is no one else who takes you down the garden path, beneath the house and to the moon in a few short, sharp pages. As he says, “before they made S.J. Perelman, they broke the mold.” This is a full serving of gems from 1930-58, and my favorite of his many collections.

Everything is Miscellaneous, David Weinberger. Times Books, 2007.

One of the Clue Train gang, Weinberger is terrific at characterizing the digital world (“small pieces loosely joined,” he might say). Consider this book a great explainer of how we’ve learned to absorb digital conventions in order to operate in a world of UX, UI, and virtual world taxonomies IRL.

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic - Alison Bechdel. Mariner Books, 2007. An amazing memoir told with tenderness, ruefulness and wisdom. Bechel is a wonderful visual storyteller. This book makes me appreciate the nuances and forgotten details of a life, and always sparks a flood of my own memories.

Stitches: A Memoir. David Small. Norton, 2009.

You don’t know dark till you page through this harrowing story of a six year old’s grim experiences. The great thing about graphical memoirs is that you can see the creator’s hard-won wisdom and healing through the telling (and showing), in this case a horrifying tale told through beautiful ink-wash images worthy of Bergman.

Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art. Scott McCloud, Harper Books, 1994.

Though it predates the flood of graphic novels and memoirs by many years, McCloud articulates the social and aesthetic meaning and value of visual storytelling. Thanks to MAD Magazine I’ve loved comics for a long time. This book explains why.

You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Transformation. Katharine Harmon, Princeton Architectural Press, 2004.

I have always loved maps, and in recent years savored the new wave of social / psychological / art map books. This is one of my favorites, with gorgeous map illustrations of everything: the mind, Heaven, life, a walk, a day, the body, love -- we should all draw our many maps.

News of the Universe: Poems of Twofold Consciousness. Robert Bly, editor. Sierra Club Books, 1995.

Bly collects poetry from around the world that reflects the intertwined consciousness of humans, animals and nature, from Rumi and Kabir to Mary Oliver and Charles Simic. If I could have just one book on a desert island, it’s this one.

Nobody’s Perfect: Writings From the New Yorker. Anthony Lane, Vintage, 2003.

His movie reviews are reliably incisive, clever and complete, and the longer pieces here, on books, people and events (like the Sound of Music Sing-a-long, or the joy of Legos) are good stellar fun. I always feel like I’ve had a great meal after finishing a piece, but I bet you can’t read just one.

Night of the Gun. A Reporter Investigates the Darkest Story of His Life - His Own. David Carr, Simon & Schuster, 2008.

A very dark memoir that NY Times writer Carr undertook as an investigative project, since he doesn’t actually remember much of what happened or who he was in the bad old days. His saga is redemptive, but never sweet. Carr’s writing is knowing, sly and resonates like hell.

What the Dormouse Said: How the 60s Counterculture Shaped the Personal Computer Industry. John Markoff, Viking, 2005.

Markoff illuminates the very tangible and critical role that hippies, peaceniks and drugs du jour played in creating the technology culture we now can’t seem to live without. A vivid history that explains so much about the underpinnings of business, technology and culture we take for granted.

Hackers. Steven Levy, O’Reilly, 2010 (25th anniv. edition).

Levy’s iconic book has been a computer geek’s bible for 25 years. If you want to understand the origins of the software developer ethic that rule today (seen “The Social Network”? own an Apple product? use Google?), read this great tale.

Pursuit of Happiness. Maira Kalman, Penguin Press, 2010.

A portrait of America filled with lessons from the past and hope for the future - it’s the best kind of history book from Kalman, whose quirky and sweet paintings and stories illuminate the best and most challenging aspects of our complicated country.

Posters for the People: Art of the WPA. Ennis Carter, Quirk Books, 2008.

It seems impossible now, but there in the 1930s the US Federal Government paid artists, writers, performers to create and produce work on government wages. This wonderful book captures the political excitement, creative spirit, and instantly recognizable design sensibility from that heady period.

MOVIES

Laura - Directed by Otto Preminger.

Literate, sharp noir dialogue and a fabulous cast of character actors (Clifton Webb, Judith Anderson, Vincent Price, Dana Andrews, Gene Tierney) make this a real 40s whodunit. I watch it at least once a year.

Notorious - Directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

Ingrid Bergman was never more intriguing, and Cary Grant never more tormented, in this postwar spy thriller. Bonus points for chills and laughs: Claude Rains as the Nazi has-been and his domineering German mutter.

Some Like It Hot - Directed by Billy Wilder.

A classic for so many reasons - I know it by heart. So much that is great about the gender-bending farce starts with the screenplay by Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond, whose muscular and irreverent American lingo makes the whole thing sing.  

Topsy Turvy - Directed by Mike Leigh.

A visual and musical confection with acid undertones for fans of Gilbert & Sullivan - and those who think they could care less. This elaborate production surfaces the creators, and the troupe’s, very different personalities and aspirations, the challenges of show biz, and considerable drama behind the scenes. Every time I watch it I root for them all.

Auntie Mame - Directed by Morton DaCosta.

Before Liza was Sally Bowles, Roz Russell was Mame. Her inimitable rat-a-tat delivery, the great character cast, and the indelibly witty screenplay by Comden and Green - really, it is perfection.

May 31: Photo a day update

Two weeks in, and I can see some patterns emerging. I really like framing close-ups (a cheat code for forcing a better image?) and I am really paying attention to patterns I spot. No real time for rumination today, but I have managed to upload a selection to Flickr as part of the 365 set.

And here's one pick with gratitude for the fabulous weather this and last weekend - the sort of days that make me grateful all over again to live in San Francisco. The light, the breeze, and the landscape all conspire to foster an incredible sense of well-being.

"The Goddess of 17th Street"

First week of Project 365

Based on my grand plan that began a week ago, I've heard a few grumblings that faithful readers expected me to post a new photo a day. Which as you'll see here, I have not done. I warned ya then that the idea was to *take* photos each day, but not necessarily to post daily. Reason being that it's rather a pain to download/upload, caption, tag and most of all edit down a selection. 


I've also discovered that Flickr and Picasa have their own quirks re management and organization. So - enough excuses - here are a few shots from this week. I hope to get a smoother process going this coming week and beyond. Meanwhile - extremely random glimpses from the last few days. 

Side door for apartment building - probably just behind it are the building's garbage bins. 

Las Palmas Mexicatessen, 24th & Florida.

Older mural that used to be gorgeous. I still love the light on the hills and the pitcher handle. 

It's so easy to shoot in the Mission - the pix practically take themselves. 

From earlier in the week ... 

Mika, looking terrifying? No. She's just really coming in close for a lick. 

Straight up the lightwell at my building (2 condos and a blue sky above). 

Holiday leftover on 27th Street. 

A favorite Yerba Buena sculpture: Shaking Man, by Terry Allen. 

The very epitome of 'gladhanding'. 

Entrance to the 60s exhibit at the newly-revamped Oakland Museum. 

Closeup from Lois Anderson's "Chinese Tower", Oakland Museum. 

She was an absolute Bay Area free spirit who called 

herself "Lotus Carnation" and died at 77 in 2004. 

Yes, there really is a sea dragon horse in the lobby 

of Bldg 46 (my office!) at the Googleplex. No, I don't know why. 

And that's a wrap for the week past. I'll sort out some other ways to upload and share as the days progress. What I can say is I love the idea of looking each day and shooting random images. The harder discipline is the editing and sharing. But maybe you knew that.