Mark Flider’s Blog

I woke up – and here I’m generously calling it “waking up” – with a throbbing headache, a dry throat, and a queasy stomach. No, I wasn’t sick, these are merely unexpected, but by no means unforeseen, side effects of…

The Night Before

There was an open bar at the party we went to that night, and I somehow took advantage of it in such a way that resulted in me double-fisting drinks early and often. Needless to say, it was a fun party. I have pictures. And a movie.

Luckily things turned sane for some of us earlier than for others. John, Michael, and I headed back to the hotel instead of catching a cab to the next place with the rest of the posse. I thought we’d have one more drink at the hotel bar before calling it a night. When we got to the lobby however, we were unable to persuade John to join us in the hotel bar, and he wisely retired to his room.

Mike and I approached the bartender, but he told us they had just closed, but there was a place across the street that was still open. When we got to the lobby again, however, I was unable to persuade Michael to join me across the street, and he wisely retired to his room.

Realizing this nightcap as a lost cause, I too retired to my room, somehow finding Kim Possible an entertaining show. My excuse was that it was an interesting art style (Penny Arcade’s artist admits to being heavily influenced by it), and I’ve never seen it animated. It was pretty well done, actually. Oh, and I was drunk (not having to follow the storyline can only have helped).

Part 2, Wherein I actually talk about Macworld itself for the first time already

Apple employees are decked out in all-black, looking like a large, classy army when we move in groups. My job is to talk to people about iWork, explaining the new features and answering questions. The answers to the three most frequently-asked questions I got were:

1. No, this is iWork; the new MacBook Pros are over there. (gesticulates towards a large mob of people)
2. No, this is iWork; the new iLife is over there. (gesticulates towards the other side of the wall)
3. $79 is the upgrade price. (grins)

Overall though, it is great talking to actual customers: seeing people “ooh” and “aah” my work is what I live for. But what I was really looking forward to was getting an idea of what people like about it, and getting feedback about their individual workflows or any problems they have with either app. It means a lot more when someone comes up to you and tells you that they would like this feature because when they do such-and-such a thing, it would be helpful to have support for blah, than it is to see a comment on a messageboard that just says “iWork sucks lolz”.

Sidenote: When you remove the anonymity of the Internet, you’re left with real people, with real thoughts, feelings, and ideas. (With the anonymity of the Internet, you get only links to actual work people have done, and 13-year olds’ mental diarrhea)

At this point in the conference, my feet are absolutely killing me, and standing takes an enormous amount of willpower. (You’re welcome.)

Oh boy my first MacWorld! So exciting!

The Keynote

As it turns out, we didn’t get “full” conference passes, so most of us drove down to the Cupertino campus to watch the Keynote. I, however, stayed and used some trickery (thanks Calin!) to get into the Apple booth and watch it there. It was, as usual, pretty exciting. Feel free to watch it yourself if you haven’t already.

They released my product, Keynote 3, as part of the new iWork ‘06… check out all the cool new transitions.

The Panic

In the excitement of the post-keynote scramble, I left my new leather jacket on my chair as I ran to check out the new products. When I realized that I wasn’t wearing it anymore, some 5-10 minutes later, I hurried back to my chair to find it missing, most likely “cleaned up” in the furious cleaning session that took place just before opening the booth to the media, then public.

Unfortunately, my jacket contained a few important items that I’d rather not replace:

• Cellphone
• Keys to my car, apartment, and office
• iPod
• Expensive iPod earphones
• CryptoCard
• Fake wallet

…basically, my whole identity.

Needless to say, I was panicking. I ran around and asked everyone I saw if they had seen it anywhere. I was even looking for people who happened to be carrying it, though that effort proved a bit fruitless, as 80% of the civilized American population has black leather jackets. I asked fellow employees, staff managers, security guards, conference coordinators, help desks, info desks, random people… I even stopped by the conference’s lost-and-found desk every hour or two, along with the Apple storage area.

The problem was, it could have been anywhere. Someone could have stolen it, or was just holding onto it, it could have been stashed in some tiny storage receptacle somewhere nearby, or taken to security, or lost+found, or thrown in the back of the giant black Apple obelisk… who knows.

Anyway, towards the end of my afternoon shift, around 5pm, someone came over and told me that:

1. They have found my leather jacket, and
2. I owed them a bottle of vodka.

So that was an exciting and stress-filled first day. I’ll have to remember not to do stupid things like that anymore.

I had never bought my parents dinner. I was always the little kid, they were always in the parental role. Even now, whenever I talk to my mom on the phone, she’ll ask me if there’s anything I need, like I just went away to college and maybe I forgot a blanket or something. I’ve had a well-paying job for a while, and I thought, wouldn’t it be nice to buy them dinner. It would be a nice gesture of “thanks for raising me” and would kind of put me more on their “level”, or at least make me feel a little less like a little kid whenever I’m with them.

I was actually planning this before I even got to Phoenix. Since I wasn’t able to be there for my dad’s birthday, we were all going to go out to a nice restaurant for a kind-of-informal-birthday-ish-dinner-but-not-really. I figured that would be as good time as any.

As it turned out, we went to “Thai-foon”, which is to thai food like P.F. Chang’s is to chinese food. The food was surprisingly good – not authentic, but still good. (Though I’m sure some people would avoid it like the plague. )

As it came time for the check to come, I was constantly glancing – though possibly overtly looking – for our waitress. I was studying her movements, figuring out from which side she would approach, so I could either discreetly motion her to give me the bill, or at the very least, be the first one to grab it. Finally the check arrived, and was quickly and deftly placed between my dad and I. So I reached for the bill with one hand, and reached for my wallet with the other.

Now, in all fairness, I had expected some resistance – my parents are nice people, and were constantly trying to pay for meals when we ate with our grandparents. (Not that they were successful, but they fought the good fight.) They would of course protest me paying, claiming it was unnecessary, I didn’t have to do that, etc. etc. Here’s how I imagined the conversation would go:

Me: grabs the check

Parent: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Let me get this.”

Parent 1: “Nono, don’t.”

Parent 2: “You don’t have to do this.”

Me: “I want to do this.”

Parent 1: “C’mon, let us pay.”

Me: “Hey, I’ve got some money now, let me buy you guys dinner for once.”

Parents: concede

However, as is usual when I try to predict my parents’ reactions to stuff, the situation in real life did not go as my mind had so wonderfully planned. I was therefore completely unprepared for what happened next.

As soon as my fingers touched the black leather case in which I imagine – but was unable to verify – was the bill, my parents went into attack mode. My mom half stood up and lunged at me, grabbing me by the arm while hissing “No” in a tone louder and more fervent than I had expected. My dad didn’t initiate physical contact, but he turned to face me in an attack position, looking almost furious.

OK, so they were overreacting. It took me a second to pull myself together after facing this surreal opposition. Nevertheless, I thought I’d just continue with the plan, gently encouraging them to let me pay, until they gave in.

I started to tell them, “Let me get this,” and proceeded to extract my wallet, but they would have none of it. My mom just squeezed my arm harder, repeating, “No. MARK. NO.” in a tone befitting a mother discovering her 3-year-old was about to experiment with possible goldfish/blender combinations. My mom was freaking out, and I was actually afraid she would cause a disturbance in the restaurant. I turned to my dad to face a look which basically screamed, “If you do this, I will punch you very hard in the face, right now.”

OK. Whoa. I, uhh… whoa.

On the one hand I was being loudly and forcefully admonished with increasing intensity, and on the other I was facing a sort of rage that I was neither physically nor mentally prepared to deal with. Clearly I had underestimated the situation. Even my sister sitting across from me was stunned. My face turned red, and I was afraid to look and see if other patrons were taking note, or staring, or perhaps dialing 911 in advance.

I had not anticipated this. I was ill-prepared for such an outcome, and after quickly surmising possible endgames, I soon realized my position was hopeless. I let go of the bill and in the awkward silence that followed, put my wallet back in my pocket. My sister laughed and explained that she too had at one point tried paying the bill, no doubt to a similar outcome.

I was rather embarrassed and ashamed, and the incident – which was not spoken of again – gradually dissolved into the background of our dining experience.

Me? I’m just happy to have survived.