I have to point you to this ABC.com video coverage of Yahoo! Trip Planner. Too cool. Of all the press we’ve received since releasing Trip Planner, I feel like the ABC piece is the most articulate - without talking about features.
It’s no secret: I am a bicycling nut. And of late, my tastes have turned very much toward the classic, bird-like lugged steel frames of a time gone by. I guess my techno-centric work life pushes me toward a personal life of dirt, twine, shellac, and other things that can not be had from the confines of a digital device.
There is a fellow named Chris Kulczycki, who via his Velo Orange blog, has begun to build a classic cyclo-touring business by interacting directly with his customers, and potential customers. The recent post that really struck me as interesting - and ballsy - was this one. Chris asks an open-ended question which has sparked a fervent rash of comments, requests, and of course, doubt. He asks with confidence, “Now don’t get excited, but what if Velo Orange had frames made?” He then lists a few core piece of his frame idea, and finishes his post with, “What else would you want to see on this imaginary frame?”
This is the most concrete example I’ve seen of watching a person build a business, and more importantly, getting explicit and public feedback from his *potential* customers to influence his product design decisions - all via his blog (and probably email).
Are there other interesting examples of this type of thing out there?
Oh, and I have to point you to the Velo Orange store to see the beautiful collection of hand-made bicycling goods that Chris is designing.
In my continuing search for ways in which people have implemented the One Button Interface, I ask that you post photos of your crosswalk buttons, or send them to us (see Masthead for how to get in touch), and we will!
Two weekends ago I was on my Saturday morning ride of about 45 measly miles. About ten miles into the ride I noticed the LCD display beginning to fade. By mile 30 the display had faded into memory, and I pedaled harder, wondering if I could get home before the battery lost the last bit of juice.
I feared that the records of all my pain, sweat, scabs, and fun would be lost into the digital space vacuum.
I pedaled harder, frantically even. When I got home, I went directly to the local battery depot (KMart), purchased a battery, and immediately installed it when I got home. Surprise! All data gone, including my calibration settings for my wheel size, auto-startup/stop settings, and all of my statistical data. My highly personalized cyclometer was acting like it didn’t know me. Like I hadn’t spent hundreds of hours with it over the past two years. Like a total stranger.
Needless to say, but I’ll say it anyway: this was quite the frustrating experience. Why could Cat Eye designers/enginners not give me a warning that, “Hey dude, your battery is getting low. Time to replace it.” Or better yet, why not stick a backup battery, or solid-state storage in that honking piece of plastic to record that miniscule amount of information? I can’t wait until we’re finished with Distance Logger.
There is a better way, but Cat Eye isn’t paying attention. And here is the offender:
As Gizmodo puts it, a new form of cyber-begging for when you’re too lazy to work. A young and somewhat resourceful man puts up a site asking for help getting a G5. In return for replacing his older G4 Macintosh, he’ll blow it up.
Here’s (below) the first movie he probably made on his new G5.
Some most notable parts are:
Damien the displaced redneck from Wyoming.
There were also the following excellent features:
+ beer cans poked with a drinking hole
+ weiners
+ guns
+ explosives
+ dip
+ a hummer
+ folding lawn chairs