I blogged about it in this post on Tumblr, but since my activities there are fleeting at best, thought I would link to it from here.

Bottom line: Whenever you have an audience, the best way to ensure their attention from the outset is to help them forget about the places or situations from which they had just come. Bring the stage, podium, etc. to them to such an extent that it, literally, becomes part of their own experience and not something which they are watching or to which they are merely listening.

Lady Mary & Matthew Crawley - Image courtesy of Nick Briggs, Carnival Film & Television LTD (via StarTribune.com)

From National Public Radio’s story Saturday on Elizabeth McGovern to Sunday’s article in the Star Tribune about witty scripts, the return of Downton Abbey [to US shores] this weekend has the media in a lather.

Rightly so, in my humble opinion. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous at Downton offers you something of a fill of British history and, given where the second season’s storyline is headed, world history too. It lets you ponder sociology and culture, women’s rights and politics. And, as I told a friend earlier today, it’s an excuse to sneak in some good old fashioned trashy romance stuff too. What’s not to like?

Even without a TV, the Mandles are ready to leave our Minnesotan home in favor of a visit back to the estate as soon as Season 2 is put up on the PBS website.

And the folks at Masterpiece Classic won’t mind that we stop on by. As the Strib article pointed out, viewership of Masterpiece is up 150% thanks to the history, or sociology, or politics at Downton. Or, just face it, the romance.

In addition to Downton, Masterpiece has brought on numerous other new shows intended to attract those of us who’d rather equate Miss Marple’s TV home station to the living room set box of our parents. (Mom/Dad: No offense!)

Shows like Downton, “Upstairs, Downstairs,” and a reimagined Sherlock Holmes are evidence of a brand attracting a new audience by repositioning itself. The 43% ratings hike for Masterpiece indicates that this audience likes what they’re seeing.

So counter to what we saw with the SyFy channel rebranding last year, there is clearly a way brands can successfully follow through with repositioning by changing–improving–their actual product rather than just the trimmings. (And yes, I know that AdAge thought SyFy did well by its effort. And yes, I still disagree. Proof: I haven’t watched a show there since Battlestar Galactica finished its run.)

Now, please remember to leave your horse-and-carriage at home. Lady Mary is attracted to those who drive those new-fangled mechanized mobiles.

The main point was that the quality of in-flight wifi service is so bad that only 4% of passengers have been taking GoGo up on the for-pay service.

Although in-flight wireless is apparently better than the on-track service offered on select Amtrak trains, the connectivity is slow enough that the Economist writer suggested folks who find themselves airborne are probably more likely to opt to get done those tablet, laptop and mobile phone tasks for which Internet access isn’t actually needed.

The commentary continued with a suggestion that the connection speed, coupled with airplane regulations that soon might permit use of mobile devices’ own services, would make offerings like GoGo’s obsolete. Current IPO notwithstanding.

I have to rely on the writer’s points about service quality: The only time I really needed wifi service on a plane–to finish up a client report–the service ended up being broken for my leg of the journey. That said, the numbers in the hyperlinks of the article are pretty interesting.

Specifically, the fact that only 4% of passengers are logging in. Not a high number at all, especially considering the quantity of fliers who are young children who maybe could do with a bit of distraction in the air, and business people who really needed to get that report done. For example.

Another industry where wifi use figures are available–beyond transportation–is that of sports entertainment. Specifically, Minnesota’s own Target Field. While the Twins were bottoming out this past season, fans had the opportunity to avail themselves of the wifi access that was built in to the new ballpark. According to this article summarizing how the wifi system was integrated specifically for the park, about 1,000 people log on each game. Although that population size far surpasses the mere handful using airborne wifi while in-flight, it actually amounts to only 2.5% of the [in-stadium] audience.

(While we’re on the topic of the Twins ballpark, and so as not to be a complete downer about Minnesota sports after not being too nice on their abysmal season this year, check out this Wired review of Target Field, with photos to boot.)

I would love to learn more about the online behaviors of people in-flight compared to those in-stadium. How long are they actually online as a percentage of total available usage time period? What types of sites or services are accessed? And, particularly in the case of the stadium goers, what might this mean for baseball fans’ attention to the game?

I also think the musings in the Economist about the future of GoGo should take into account the use of wifi by folks in stadiums. Here on the ground people have 3G and 4G access. And yet, we still apparently have people who want to use the proffered wifi service. Might GoGo remain viable, then, even after those regulations change to permit mass use of fliers’ own phone plans?

With a title like “Are We Alone In The Universe,” it was an editorial people who know me well enough might have predicted I’d comment upon. Some of my past posts, like this one on Goldilocks Planets, should have been hint enough.

The central premise of @Krauthammer’s piece is, much like Carl Sagan’s own comments from the Cosmos series in 1980, that humanity has yet to encounter other intelligent civilizations not because none have ever existed, but because the ones that have end up destroying themselves.

I find @Klauthammer’s–and Sagan’s before him–premise plausible. But ever since I started Orson Scott Card’s Ender Series, there’s another potential explanation I’ve been mulling.

If we find exoplanets potentially ripe for life that are orbiting stars hundreds or thousands of light years away, what we are seeing of those planets is actually traveling on waves of light (or particles of light, as some would argue) that left those planets hundreds or thousands of years ago. However many light years away the exoplanet, that’s how many years old the images are.

Now imagine civilizations on those exoplanets–today–are looking at us with their own machinery. Like our technology, they are limited to imagery that travels no faster than the speed of light. So what they are “seeing,” is our planet anywhere from hundreds to thousands of years ago.

Since we were building, at best, pitch pine ships or, at worst, pyramids within that frame of time here on Earth, we simply wouldn’t be emitting any signals viable for the exoplanetians to be picking up.

As a result, those exoplanet civilizations might be just as likely as @Krauthammer to consider themselves to be flying solo.

It’s a mind game that I find fascinating. Just as much as the thought of there being another planet–or more–out there harboring warm beaches on water-based oceans, vibrant flora, diverse fauna, etc.

Here’s to learning more about other planets, our own and ourselves in 2012.

Happy New Year!

Even BC (aka Before Children), I wasn’t ever really a cafe squatter. But I LOVED lattes. And still do. So it was fun to read the article and imagine a kid-free time with a good brew and a book.

What I wasn’t imagining, though, was anything having to do with the unique taste of artisan coffee. I fully understand the notion that different coffee beans taste differently once brewed. And it makes sense that roasting technique can also make a difference.

However, as with wines, I rarely–if ever–am able to taste what the label or package promises should be there. Touches of chestnut or a pique of cherry usually seem like marketing without any substantiation in the form of actual proof positive on the taste buds.

Fresh bag of coffee beans with flavorful roast.

So this gift from my brother and sister-in-law out in Washington, DC came as a complete surprise. Firstly, because it wasn’t necessary. Secondly, because without reading the label I was very much able to note the flavors which the brewmaster was seeking to perfect. First time ever.

So if you’re in the Twin Cities and you’ve already stopped at a Caribou Coffee* but still feel the need for some caffeinated juice, try one of the coffeehouses in the City Pages review.

But if you’re in the DC area’s Petworth neighborhood and, once again, you’ve already sipped or supped with Caribou, stop in to Qualia Coffee. Bring your palate and you won’t regret it.

*Disclosure: Caribou Coffee is not my client, but Colle+McVoy serves as the brand’s agency of record.

I hadn’t seen the ad before reading about them, but the coverage itself did make me pause.

For starters, I’ve had a chest cold for nearly two weeks and the menthol in the cough drops just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore. Just from the standpoint of product benefits, a VapoRub does seem to be something that might help me sleep.

Also, the coverage I saw–including this article in the New York Times–built a story out of the celebrity aspect of the ad.

More specifically, the story revolved around how this Procter & Gamble brand was evolving to feature the man’s role in taking care of the sick child’s needs–a major change for a brand that, since it began advertising, had focused on the woman’s role instead.

That made me pause not because of my current cold, but rather the ones I remember having as a child. Why? Because my experience with Vicks VapoRub was, more often than not, connected to my dad gooping me up with the salve, instead of my mom.

That and a strong smell that invariably cleared out my nostrils and made it easier for me to breathe. Messy, but effective.

A winning combination even though my dad is not a star quarterback like Drew Brees. Just a celebrity within our family!

My kids are still young enough that they perhaps have not picked up on the impact our War on Terror has on some individuals, specifically those who might find themselves targeted on account of their own targeting.

But I’m not convinced they aren’t absorbing the news as it happens. Children’s minds have an amazing knack for learning. As an example, here’s a TEDTalk on the matter, courtesy of Alison Gopnik.

This season’s pursuit of Muammar Gaddafi was only the latest chapter I’m filing away in my own memory about stories of the Mad Dog of the Middle East.

The gruesome videos and stills of Gaddafi’s final moments will rest right alongside what I recall of all sorts of misdoings he helped spark, from Lockerbie to Rome. Because in the early-to-mid-1980s I absorbed some things which maybe I shouldn’t have for someone at my age: news of the day.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think the media coverage from Libya last month was out of the ordinary. By showcasing the death of a man–however wrong the man may have been in life, and however wrong his assassins may have been in ending it–the news outlets and citizen journalists online only followed a pattern of macabre coverage established long ago.

Witness: This painting of Robespierre’s beheading during the French Revolution.

But if the coverage itself was not unique, today’s technology made it spread across the globe in real-time. Whereas the virility of news of Robespierre losing his life was hindered by the speed of horses’ hooves and ships’ sails, Gaddafi’s demise was known instantly. Even if the specific details weren’t.

And the ubiquity of news outlets and channels we are able to tap makes it harder for us as people just to simply keep up and, as parents, to appropriately filter and protect.

I knew I’d get to meet a monster, but I was also expecting darkness. Some campy themes. Maybe a bit of suspense. The mixture wasn’t really there. Halloween came and went. Disappointed, I put the book down and decided to wait another year.

A month ago I gave it another try. Totally worth it. Now that I’ve relived the “birth” of the monster and tried another perspective on his persecution, I can look back to what went wrong in my first attempt with this book.

Real People
When I first started Frankenstein, I had an image in my mind of who (what?) I was about to meet. My presumptions were primarily driven by Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which I’d read the year before. I thought Frankenstein the scientist, not the monster, was going to be a smart man with a whole cadre of supporting characters. There would be the beautiful love interest, a trusted sidekick, a mysterious but coincidentally well-researched and mystic scientist; and, finally, there would be a string of mysterious deaths which only our cast of characters would be able to explain.

Shelley’s novel had all those things. But there was no campiness about them. Instead of the stereotypes I was expecting, I actually met real people. Individuals who made decisions throughout the course of the book and who then were made to suffer the consequences of their actions.

Shelley was telling us a story. But she was also conveying her opinions about the scientific advancements of her time. There is a lesson in her work. One where campiness simply had no place.

Real Change
The monster I was anticipating was the one Hollywood wanted me to see. I’ve never watched any of the B-Movies, but remembered a flat-topped Frankenstein from The Addams Family. Whereas the thing in the former collection was always this frightening beast, in the latter he served as something of a comedic foil. In both cases, Shelley would have turned in her grave.

The real monster of the scientist Frankenstein was ugly on the outside directly from the outset. But it wasn’t until humanity–including his own creator–had scorned him on numerous occasions that he turned to evil. Again in comparison to Dracula, this abomination is completely different from his Halloween contemporary. The only changing we saw in Stoker’s character was from man to bat and back again.

Therein lies the real story behind Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. We need to be careful with our ideas and with our science. What at first might seem an advancement could be anything but. And when we come across the unfortunate or the evil, it is worth reflection upon why the unfortunate or evil are such.

The course of Paul’s interview for the article top-lined the journey he is taking to becoming a robot. For every time we are relying on technology to catalog or help us remember something–think phone numbers, recipes, etc.–Paul’s position is that we are essentially transferring some of ourselves into that technology. And vice versa. I fully support this notion. Even though I can still remember addresses and phone numbers from when I was five years old–before said technology–I’m nearly useless without reminders and “little books” today.

I cannot answer the devil’s advocate in me that wonders why the same rule of mind-to-technology transfer does not hold true across all technologies. For instance, when I write in a notebook I am not becoming a tree nor is the tree planting its roots within my being. When I drive my car, I’m not “becoming one” with my machine–although had I been able to afford a BMW perhaps this would have happened after all.

But the rest of me cannot help but agree with the notions, put out in the article, about singularities and humanity’s impending dance with cyborgs. One need look no further than a recent series of architectural illustrations for Minneapolis’ upcoming redesign of Peavey Plaza. For the out-of-towners, the Plaza is a premiere city park located in the heart of our downtown. According to the firm in charge of the redesign, the park will better reflect its originally intended purpose as a “performance and gathering space,” fulfilling “the demands of how a 21st-century space should be articulated.”

City park. Gathering space. Humanity. It all makes sense. We are social creatures after all.

And yet, have a close look at the Plaza rendering above, taken from among those in the oslund.and.associates library. The sea of humanity in the depiction does not look overly open to real, physical discourse because they are, in fact, looking instead at their phones. Seeking a friend’s number. Trying to find directions for a rendezvous. Or desperately looking for ways to manage their own internal cyborgs.

A few months back there was a burst of content being surfaced about New York City’s High Line trail. At the time I promised myself that, when next I might find myself in the City, I would explore this amazing piece of open space.

Last week I had the opportunity to do just that. Along with a coworker, I was attending Edward Tufte’s Presenting Data and Information course. With a 9:00 start to the course’s study hall, the nearby ballroom and a superbly located Holiday Inn Express, we had enough time in the morning to walk the few blocks over to the High Line.

It was well worth it! Part industrial and part urban, part urban forest and part park, this stretch of solitude was breathtaking.

As you can see in the photos, the blue-sky morning worked in our favor. What you can’t absorb from the photos was the cool, crisp fall air. A few blocks from the Hudson River, there was even a snap of estuary if you looked in the right direction.

There are some striking similarities between the High Line and one of Minneapolis’ own Rails-to-Trails projects, the Midtown Greenway. Although the core difference–one is a trench below street level and one is elevated well above–leads to what I think are major differences in the on-trail experience.

Thank you New York for the wonderful morning!