My story, below, was prompted by reading that an Atari video game cartridges from a 1980's landfill sold for $37,000. The past rushed back at me as I re-lived an earlier very dramatic time of my life. Brace yourself.
If your first video game console was a Nintendo, this story might as well be about dinosaurs or the Roman Empire or The Middle Ages. If you are older than that you might find some memories and may notice that little has changed since those times except the absolute speed of change (the relative speed of change has not and more of that later). In hindsight, the risks of high-tech startups do not seem to have changed much and the planning to deal with it requires the same considerations today as it did then. The roman-candle story of RomLabs Inc. may give us a glimpse into it.
The business environment
It's 1983, the first "video games bubble" has been running since 1980-81 and it was a classic "bubble" unbeknownst to all industry participants. The key players of the second generation of video games devices included video game console (VGC) makers Atari, Intellivision, Coleco (also Commodore, Radioshack, Texas Instruments) and third party developers (game software only) Imagic, Activision and Electronic Arts and a host of other minor participants.
Showing posts with label 4- Travels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 4- Travels. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Ryan Scobby - Musician
We had waited a long time for our son Ryan to find time and means to come and visit us in Park City. Finally, hurrah! he came. It was to be a visit of learning and discovery.
Let's start with the learning part: shortly after his arrival I jokingly asked Ry if he had already found a hook up in town using Tinder.
[Side bar: That was my opening to tell him what I had read about Tinder in a post on Vanity Fair,
which presumably would make me look current and well informed. I had read the story describing the users of Tinder and the fast hook up culture in NYC, which, shared with my late middle-age women friends at a recent party, had generated great surprise, curiosity, laughs and, for some, horror]
Saturday, September 19, 2015
Can we learn to die purposefully?
Read this article. "Slipping Away" It is a terrifying life log of a young man with an incurable disease. See yourself in one of the two main roles of the story. Take a very long breath. Hope that your life will not make you live either role, then read my thoughts born out of imagining that nightmare.
Naturally, genetically we are programmed to live, almost at any cost. We spend all our life even before day one practicing staying alive. In most culture the "will to live against all odds" is glorified. If one said "life is overrated" one would probably be judged either suicidal or mentally unbalanced. But, perhaps, could we learn to be less attached to our own life to be better people, better siblings, parents, children to our counterparts in those relationships? If we could learn to value our lives less for ourselves and more for them?
It is lost in the darkness of history and of the history of phylosophy, forgotten in our modern cultural make up, but this is not a new idea. The Stoics beginning in the 3rd century CE elaborated a concept of a "virtuous life" where self sacrifice is ethically appropriate under specific, objectively definable circumstances.
Naturally, genetically we are programmed to live, almost at any cost. We spend all our life even before day one practicing staying alive. In most culture the "will to live against all odds" is glorified. If one said "life is overrated" one would probably be judged either suicidal or mentally unbalanced. But, perhaps, could we learn to be less attached to our own life to be better people, better siblings, parents, children to our counterparts in those relationships? If we could learn to value our lives less for ourselves and more for them?
It is lost in the darkness of history and of the history of phylosophy, forgotten in our modern cultural make up, but this is not a new idea. The Stoics beginning in the 3rd century CE elaborated a concept of a "virtuous life" where self sacrifice is ethically appropriate under specific, objectively definable circumstances.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Janus and Vision
Janus was the Roman god with two faces: one faced forward to see the future and one faced backwards to see the past. Seeing was clearly a big focus of Janus'. I always found the image of Janus intriguing, perhaps because vision has been a big part of my life. Vision, the kind that describes imagination has been a big motivation for much that I have tried to do, but here I am looking at Vision, the kind that lets us physically see things.
The former moves us to imagine and pursue whatever we imagine - one former US President called it "the vision thing" and everyone knew instantly what he was talking about. The latter, the ability to see our surroundings is considered the most complex and most important development in the history of animal evolution.
Most people do not give vision much thought unless they lose it to some degree or completely. Throughout my life however I have repeatedly dealt with serious vision issues and have stayed ahead of disaster only thanks to a few wizards and the just-in-time evolution of technology. So here is my chronology of dodging the bullet and my reason for wanting to spread rose petals in front of my eye surgeons.
Troubles started in my teens needing eye glasses like many other kids. By the time I was 19 and finished three years in the Italian Navy, my condition, keratoconus (in both eyes) had deteriorated enough that I could no longer be in the military since vision correction could be done only with special contact lenses. In 1970 I moved to the US and was rejected for the then compulsory draft for the same condition, A young optometrist at Indiana University, Barry Gridley, took my case as a mission and became a wiz at hand grinding my hard contacts to custom fit. Without him I probably would have never finished my MBA and started my career. That was the time when I started being a "special case" that students would come and look at to see the "real thing" described in their textbooks.
The former moves us to imagine and pursue whatever we imagine - one former US President called it "the vision thing" and everyone knew instantly what he was talking about. The latter, the ability to see our surroundings is considered the most complex and most important development in the history of animal evolution.
Most people do not give vision much thought unless they lose it to some degree or completely. Throughout my life however I have repeatedly dealt with serious vision issues and have stayed ahead of disaster only thanks to a few wizards and the just-in-time evolution of technology. So here is my chronology of dodging the bullet and my reason for wanting to spread rose petals in front of my eye surgeons.
Troubles started in my teens needing eye glasses like many other kids. By the time I was 19 and finished three years in the Italian Navy, my condition, keratoconus (in both eyes) had deteriorated enough that I could no longer be in the military since vision correction could be done only with special contact lenses. In 1970 I moved to the US and was rejected for the then compulsory draft for the same condition, A young optometrist at Indiana University, Barry Gridley, took my case as a mission and became a wiz at hand grinding my hard contacts to custom fit. Without him I probably would have never finished my MBA and started my career. That was the time when I started being a "special case" that students would come and look at to see the "real thing" described in their textbooks.
Friday, April 6, 2012
57 years in the making
We never achieve anything totally on our own. Somewhere along the way someone planted the seed of whatever accomplishment we may check off our "bucket list".
One item on my list, long in the making was "become a ski instructor". I am not sure I know why it was important, but it was. Perhaps I wanted to have at least one thing in my life that could be "certified" top in class.
One item on my list, long in the making was "become a ski instructor". I am not sure I know why it was important, but it was. Perhaps I wanted to have at least one thing in my life that could be "certified" top in class.
Friday, September 17, 2010
What a night with Lipbone Redding and the Dogs of Santiago
It happens only once every few years, but when it does, wow! It feels like magic. Tonight (9/17/2010), in Park City, I went to a small party, two dozens people or so. The invitation promised live music by Lipbone Redding. Never heard of them before. Marginal expectations at best. As we helped ourselves around the buffet in a beautiful mountain home set on the side of a hill turning into the stunning colors of the Fall in PC, a treo, not much of a band if you asked me, was tuning up on the terrace. One guitar, a bass and a bongo with cymbals. Minimalist was the motif and so were my expectations.
First surprise: Lipbone Redding had an extra secret instrument you could not see. Watch this video and listen to the music: there is NO Brass, no trumpet, no sax, no trombone - what you hear is the "voicestrumentalist" sound of Lipbone Redding - Sachmo would be impressed. When Lipbone just sang, Fats Waller would have stopped to listen with a big smile. I was in heaven, could hardly stand still. Second surprise: Lipbone and his friends could have stolen the show at last night's final of 2010 America's Got Talent. May be not from Jackie Evancho (should have won by a landslide!), a 10 year old girl with a heavenly voice, but in my book would have buried winner Michael Grimm hands down. Anyway, you be the judge. The range of styles is broad, all impeccably delivered after being made their own like Sixteen Tons, to all the rest original compositions, all with a crips natural happiness of beat I had not heard since Rafa Mora in Costa Rica (see that post and listen). These guys are in a league of their own with a style, technique, a natural voice-trumpet and a tongue in cheek perspective of life like the Dogs of Santiago. Remember NO horns only a voice - Wow ! Do not pass up a chance to see them yourself if you are so lucky they go through your town. The Lipbone Redding Orchestra Lipbone Redding - Voicestrumentsls, Guitar Jeff Eyrich - Upright Bass, Backing Vocals Rich Zukor - Drums/Percussion, Backing Vocals http://lipbone.com or http://facebook/citizenonemusic
First surprise: Lipbone Redding had an extra secret instrument you could not see. Watch this video and listen to the music: there is NO Brass, no trumpet, no sax, no trombone - what you hear is the "voicestrumentalist" sound of Lipbone Redding - Sachmo would be impressed. When Lipbone just sang, Fats Waller would have stopped to listen with a big smile. I was in heaven, could hardly stand still. Second surprise: Lipbone and his friends could have stolen the show at last night's final of 2010 America's Got Talent. May be not from Jackie Evancho (should have won by a landslide!), a 10 year old girl with a heavenly voice, but in my book would have buried winner Michael Grimm hands down. Anyway, you be the judge. The range of styles is broad, all impeccably delivered after being made their own like Sixteen Tons, to all the rest original compositions, all with a crips natural happiness of beat I had not heard since Rafa Mora in Costa Rica (see that post and listen). These guys are in a league of their own with a style, technique, a natural voice-trumpet and a tongue in cheek perspective of life like the Dogs of Santiago. Remember NO horns only a voice - Wow ! Do not pass up a chance to see them yourself if you are so lucky they go through your town. The Lipbone Redding Orchestra Lipbone Redding - Voicestrumentsls, Guitar Jeff Eyrich - Upright Bass, Backing Vocals Rich Zukor - Drums/Percussion, Backing Vocals http://lipbone.com or http://facebook/citizenonemusic
Monday, May 10, 2010
An Indomitable Spirit
I could only wish that at 85 I will still have the undying curiosity to try something new every turn and even to recycle my own creations to make new ones. That is the real test of commitment and detachment of the ultimate creative spirit.
My mother is blessed with that spirit and has shared her painting technique with friends and associates over the years. The most recent time was earlier this year when she was asked to give a demonstration to the Artists Of South Whidbey (AOSW) on Whidbey Island, Washington.
Here you can see her presentation.
Note: The concept behind this presentation was one of the last projects my mother produced in collaboration with my father's multimedia production support in 2008. It was updated in 2010 for AOSW.
Find more at her gallery http://piapaintings.com
My mother is blessed with that spirit and has shared her painting technique with friends and associates over the years. The most recent time was earlier this year when she was asked to give a demonstration to the Artists Of South Whidbey (AOSW) on Whidbey Island, Washington.
Here you can see her presentation.
Note: The concept behind this presentation was one of the last projects my mother produced in collaboration with my father's multimedia production support in 2008. It was updated in 2010 for AOSW.
Find more at her gallery http://piapaintings.com
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Haunted
Music is big part of this story - Listen while you read
Have you ever felt haunted by a promise you made? This is my story. It has been with me since March of 2008 when I vacationed in Costa Rica. The travel log of that trip will wait for another day although I brought back photo memories of that magnificent country that you can see here (suspend the music player if it is playing by pressing the space bar) - you’ll have to dream up your own explanations for the photos, but the feel for that enchanting country will come through nonetheless – stay in touch and the travel log will come).
This posting is really about being haunted by a promise. This is, in a small way, my first step toward buying my freedom from that promise. Time will tell if it works. I may have to travel back to Costa Rica to try harder than this, and that would not be bad at all. So, here it goes:
The trip
In 2008 Darlene, my wife, and I wanted a trip to a warm place with a direct flight from Phoenix AZ. We’ve seen much of Mexico, another lovely country of wonderful people, so we were looking for another destination. My boss Rich, an accomplished world traveler and bon-vivant, told me that he had invested in Costa Rica to develop property near Dominical. He sang the glories of the country and we decided we had to see this jewel often called “Switzerland of Latin America” for its orderly government, peaceful people, high productivity and dependable banking. As a former international banker I was most curious to see it.
We traveled there in March 2008 just before the rainy season would come. In one week we drove all over the North and West of the country and saw a volcano up lose (Arenal), high altitude cloud forests, sea level tropical forests, and more monkeys, sloths and butterflies than we had hoped. The Costarican people proved to be all they were promised to be: friendly, helpful, well educated and with a joi de vivre hard to find at home in our hurried culture. Check the photolog (suspend the music player if it is playing) and go see for yourself.
A monkey on my back
In this wonderful country full of monkeys, I managed to put one on my back in a most unexpected way. The last stop of our Costa-Rican west coast exploration was the famous surfer village of Dominical, well known to all “real surfers” that dream of an “endless summer” lifestyle. We are not surfers, so we were looking mostly for a laid back village where Rich had been developing property for sale to vacationing and “expat” gringos. We were enchanted enough to even go talk to realtors about property, but in the end that was just daydreaming.
We stayed at the Hotel Domilocos, a grand hotel by surfers standards, but more of a motel-6 sort of place. It was just what we try to travel by: basic, clean, convenient, friendly, well priced accommodations you do not need to book days ahead, the kind that are mostly a lucky find. That day we were lucky, the more so because in it, at the edge of the village, at the end of a dusty road, they were said to have a high end Italian restaurant.
The restaurant opened quite late, was an untested quantity, looked suspicious with high prices at the end of that dusty road and the front desk announced that the chef had just left to Italy on vacation. We decided to go for fish tacos at the local surfers’ hangout under the nearest palapa surrounded by broken surfboards.
Late in the evening on our way to our room we found the restaurant at Domilocos packed, lively and with great music. We stopped for a nightcap and got a seat right in front of the single musician that sounded like a whole orchestra. Over a cognac and a banana flambé’ in Grand Marnier we discovered that the restaurant was indeed top class despite the vacationing chef.
As we listened to the music I felt transfixed. The latin rhythm, the romantic songs and a musician that could switch from piano to keyboards to accordion to acoustic guitar and guitarron were too much to leave. We stayed until closing, whenever that was.
During a couple of intermissions I met the musician, bought a couple of his CDs for souvenirs and bought him a drink. Rafa Mora was his name (he is from Costa Rica, there is a musician in Spain by the same name). I learned that he had tried to introduce his music into the US with the help of a friend in NYC, but the friend had gone bust, his CDs were gone and no contacts had come from the effort. Rafa asked what I did for a living and I explained my work at Maricopa College Small Business Development Center. Instinctively, and as I did with just about anyone in those days, I offered to help him develop his business by tracing his friend and see what could be done to reopen his web site. I was willing to host his site along with several of my own ones if we could get it transferred without too much trouble. At that news Rafa gratefully gave me a copy of all his other CDs that I had not already bought and wished me well in my endeavor. The rest of that evening he pulled all the stops off performing for us as if I had been the most connected music industry mogul in LA.
Upon our return I made a few searches over the net, but never found his former friend. I had no time to develop a site for him, besides I did not have any local contact for him in Dominical since he never followed up to send me his email address. Life happened, I took up some demanding projects that took all my time and eventually I left the MCSBDC to chase a success chimera to the moon. Over the months, I listened to Rafa’s music often as a crutch in tough times to make me smile again remembering that happy night in Dominical. His captivating music has a joi de vivre that beats any antidepressant and on a romantic soul it works wonders.
All this musical bliss has not come free of charge, however. Every time I hear Rafa sing and play a little monkey on my back gets agitated and whispers in my ears questioning if I did enough for those free CDs I got. They had no cost to me and I could not sell them for more than I paid, but to Rafa they were a significant cost and investment in his future as a musician or so says the little monkey. So, today I had to take a step, at least a little one, to quiet the little miserable bastard on my back: 1. I wrote this posting, 2 I am streaming Rafa’s music for you to hear. May be it will be my luck that some music industry connected reader my “discover” Rafa and lend a hand. In time I’ll do more, starting with tracking down Rafa by email back in Dominical – I doubt my monkey will rest for long.
In the meantime you can enjoy Rafa’s magic. Look him up if you are in Dominical, Costa Rica. The Hotel Domilocos will be a good place to start and everyone in town should know Rafa Mora musician and singer extraordinair. Happy travels.
Mucho gusto mi amigo Rafa – El mejor a Costa Rica
Songs and arragements copyright of Rafa Mora
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 1
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 2
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 3
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 4
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 5
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 6
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 7
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 8
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 9
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 10
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 11
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 12
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 13
- Cuerdas Sentimentales 14
- Noche Inolvidable 01
- Noche Inolvidable 02
- Noche Inolvidable 03
- Noche Inolvidable 04
- Noche Inolvidable 05
- Noche Inolvidable 06
- Noche Inolvidable 07
- Noche Inolvidable 08
- Noche Inolvidable 09
- Noche Inolvidable 10
- Noche Inolvidable 11
- Noche Inolvidable 12
- Noche Inolvidable 13
- Noche Inolvidable 14
- Noche Inolvidable 15
- Noche Inolvidable 16
- Noche Inolvidable 17
- Noche Inolvidable 18
- Noche Inolvidable 19
- Noche Inolvidable 20
This posting is really about being haunted by a promise. This is, in a small way, my first step toward buying my freedom from that promise. Time will tell if it works. I may have to travel back to Costa Rica to try harder than this, and that would not be bad at all. So, here it goes:
The trip
In 2008 Darlene, my wife, and I wanted a trip to a warm place with a direct flight from Phoenix AZ. We’ve seen much of Mexico, another lovely country of wonderful people, so we were looking for another destination. My boss Rich, an accomplished world traveler and bon-vivant, told me that he had invested in Costa Rica to develop property near Dominical. He sang the glories of the country and we decided we had to see this jewel often called “Switzerland of Latin America” for its orderly government, peaceful people, high productivity and dependable banking. As a former international banker I was most curious to see it.
We traveled there in March 2008 just before the rainy season would come. In one week we drove all over the North and West of the country and saw a volcano up lose (Arenal), high altitude cloud forests, sea level tropical forests, and more monkeys, sloths and butterflies than we had hoped. The Costarican people proved to be all they were promised to be: friendly, helpful, well educated and with a joi de vivre hard to find at home in our hurried culture. Check the photolog (suspend the music player if it is playing) and go see for yourself.
A monkey on my back
In this wonderful country full of monkeys, I managed to put one on my back in a most unexpected way. The last stop of our Costa-Rican west coast exploration was the famous surfer village of Dominical, well known to all “real surfers” that dream of an “endless summer” lifestyle. We are not surfers, so we were looking mostly for a laid back village where Rich had been developing property for sale to vacationing and “expat” gringos. We were enchanted enough to even go talk to realtors about property, but in the end that was just daydreaming.
We stayed at the Hotel Domilocos, a grand hotel by surfers standards, but more of a motel-6 sort of place. It was just what we try to travel by: basic, clean, convenient, friendly, well priced accommodations you do not need to book days ahead, the kind that are mostly a lucky find. That day we were lucky, the more so because in it, at the edge of the village, at the end of a dusty road, they were said to have a high end Italian restaurant.
The restaurant opened quite late, was an untested quantity, looked suspicious with high prices at the end of that dusty road and the front desk announced that the chef had just left to Italy on vacation. We decided to go for fish tacos at the local surfers’ hangout under the nearest palapa surrounded by broken surfboards.
Late in the evening on our way to our room we found the restaurant at Domilocos packed, lively and with great music. We stopped for a nightcap and got a seat right in front of the single musician that sounded like a whole orchestra. Over a cognac and a banana flambé’ in Grand Marnier we discovered that the restaurant was indeed top class despite the vacationing chef.
As we listened to the music I felt transfixed. The latin rhythm, the romantic songs and a musician that could switch from piano to keyboards to accordion to acoustic guitar and guitarron were too much to leave. We stayed until closing, whenever that was.
During a couple of intermissions I met the musician, bought a couple of his CDs for souvenirs and bought him a drink. Rafa Mora was his name (he is from Costa Rica, there is a musician in Spain by the same name). I learned that he had tried to introduce his music into the US with the help of a friend in NYC, but the friend had gone bust, his CDs were gone and no contacts had come from the effort. Rafa asked what I did for a living and I explained my work at Maricopa College Small Business Development Center. Instinctively, and as I did with just about anyone in those days, I offered to help him develop his business by tracing his friend and see what could be done to reopen his web site. I was willing to host his site along with several of my own ones if we could get it transferred without too much trouble. At that news Rafa gratefully gave me a copy of all his other CDs that I had not already bought and wished me well in my endeavor. The rest of that evening he pulled all the stops off performing for us as if I had been the most connected music industry mogul in LA.
Upon our return I made a few searches over the net, but never found his former friend. I had no time to develop a site for him, besides I did not have any local contact for him in Dominical since he never followed up to send me his email address. Life happened, I took up some demanding projects that took all my time and eventually I left the MCSBDC to chase a success chimera to the moon. Over the months, I listened to Rafa’s music often as a crutch in tough times to make me smile again remembering that happy night in Dominical. His captivating music has a joi de vivre that beats any antidepressant and on a romantic soul it works wonders.
All this musical bliss has not come free of charge, however. Every time I hear Rafa sing and play a little monkey on my back gets agitated and whispers in my ears questioning if I did enough for those free CDs I got. They had no cost to me and I could not sell them for more than I paid, but to Rafa they were a significant cost and investment in his future as a musician or so says the little monkey. So, today I had to take a step, at least a little one, to quiet the little miserable bastard on my back: 1. I wrote this posting, 2 I am streaming Rafa’s music for you to hear. May be it will be my luck that some music industry connected reader my “discover” Rafa and lend a hand. In time I’ll do more, starting with tracking down Rafa by email back in Dominical – I doubt my monkey will rest for long.
In the meantime you can enjoy Rafa’s magic. Look him up if you are in Dominical, Costa Rica. The Hotel Domilocos will be a good place to start and everyone in town should know Rafa Mora musician and singer extraordinair. Happy travels.
Mucho gusto mi amigo Rafa – El mejor a Costa Rica
Songs and arragements copyright of Rafa Mora
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