“Do one thing every day that scares you” – Eleanor Roosevelt, US diplomat (1884 – 1962)

Well, every day is probably a bit excessive, but once every two decades probably isn’t enough.

After 19½ years of combined service with Lotus Development Corporation and then IBM, I have decided to leave and pursue a new opportunity. After that amount of time you’ll appreciate that this was a hard decision to make – there were a number of reasons that prompted me to look elsewhere, but I’m not interested in discussing them.

During my time at IBM / Lotus I’ve met a huge number of people – colleagues (past and present), Business Partners, ISVs, bloggers and customers. I’d like to say thank you to everyone who invested their time and enthusiasm (and money) into the Lotus brand. I did compose a goodbye e-mail to send internally, but I respected a request not to send it and allowing my departure to be communicated in an alternative manner.

My best time within IBM / Lotus was the few years I spent as the Lotus Technical Sales Manager for North Region (in its various guises, including South Africa) and then UK & Ireland. Many of that team are still around in IBM and remain close friends (and I hope will remain so).

Way way back in time, August 2009 to be precise, I visited a studio where a major movie was being filmed along with Mrs A, Lolli and my nephew Big Al. I said at the time that we’d all signed confidentiality agreements, so could divulge very little. But since then the very kind person who arranged the visit said that it was okay to blog it provided that as-yet unseen details were not revealed, and one part of the movie series being filmed has since been released. We are of course talking about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, filmed at Leavesden Studios. As you’d expect, no cameras or phones were allowed in, so here’s an overview (and you’ll just have to let your imagination do the rest). The order in which we saw things will now be slightly jumbled (so much to see and remember in one day). Mrs A asked “why now, after all this time?”… quite simply I was waiting for part 1 to be released, and I’ve had this in draft for a couple of months.

After parking the car we were taken to the security office to sign the confidentiality agreements and to be checked for phones and cameras. We then jumped into a mini-bus which took us past the set for Privet Drive – this is incredibly detailed when you look at the front of the houses, but they’re mainly fascias with nothing behind. Next we drove past some sets which were being constructed in preparation for Deathly Hallows part 2, and thus shall not be discussed. We got out when we arrived at the Hogwarts gates (which appeared, I think, in The Order of the Phoenix), and again when we got to the Lovegoods’ house (which appears in the Deathly Hallows part 1). After that we visited an enormous set being constructed for the Deathly Hallows part 2 – an incredible sight, but I can’t say what.

Next up was a visit to where they were actually shooting that day inside the studio complex. We were incredibly lucky – that day they were due to be shooting at Privet Drive but the schedule was a couple of days behind, so we saw the scene where they arrive back at the Weasleys’ house after the flight from Privet Drive. So we saw Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Rupert Grint, Julie Walters, Mark Williams, Bonny Wright, David Thewlis, Natalia Tena, Clémence Poésy and the Phelps twins. The set of the Weasley house interior was within a studio, and we saw director David Yates setting up the shot – it seemed to be a laborious process, and here’s a scoop… the movie employed ‘lighting doubles’. For every character there was a double (dressed identically) – they were sitting in an area near the set and were called in to be in place while the lighting was adjusted (presumably so the main cast members don’t have to endure the process).

We were instructed not to talk to the actors, but as I walked into the crowded studio area Daniel Radcliffe was coming in my direction  – I said “hi Dan” and he grinned and replied “alright mate”. I was very tempted to say hello to Mark Williams as he stood near me eating an orange, but I thought it best not to (and I stood next to him again in the lunch queue later). Our host took us round the back of the set and we peered in through one of the house’s windows, getting a very close look at everything going on – most of the cast were elsewhere but Emma Watson was perched on the sofa.

When they were ready to shoot, a bell rang and announcement stated “all quiet on set” (or something like that) and you could have heard a fly fart 30 yards away.

After this we saw a number of other sets… Hogsmead Village (yes, inside the interior studio lot), the Great Hall (empty, but still very imposing), and then the set for the wedding reception scene in the Deathly Hallows part 1. In the finished movie it looks like it’s set in a tent in a field, but it was actually a tent in a studio surrounded by a very detailed painting. Inside the tent the detail of the set and props was extraordinary.

Here’s another insider scoop… everyone working on the movie (stars and director included) has their own bicycle to get around the studio.

I can’t remember the exact order of things. I think we may have gone to lunch next. Most of the stars were in the canteen, and it was Rupert Grint’s 21st birthday. Lolli and I walked around the restaurant where there were display cabinets containing props from each of the movies in turn.

After lunch we saw the art department, full of drawings and models, and then went to see the props department. There was an incredible amount to see here. Models of creatures and characters, animatronics, Hagrid’s motorbikes, brooms, shelves full of Death Eater masks, a box of wands (all labelled with the character names), and some items being worked on for the Deathly Hallows parts 1 and 2. I commented on the incredible detail of one item, and the guy working on it pointed out that on-screen it could measure 7 feet across, so it has to be detailed. All of the people who showed us around their departments and what they were doing were absolutely charming – you’d have thought they’d be fed up with gawping visitors, but nothing was further from the truth. There was an awful lot to see, room after room of stored props or people working on new ones.

We then went to the Grimmauld Place set (yep, there’s a semi-complete London street) and then back into the interior studio. Our host had radioed a request to open up Dumbledore’s office, and in we went. It’s just like in the movies, minus many of the props, but we walked up the steps behind his desk (and I took the opportunity to sit in the great man’s seat). After this we continued through the studio, seeing vast areas surrounded by huge green screens, and finally the Room of Requirement which was again incredibly detailed and had the most amazing array of props and things on shelves.

It was then time to make our way back to the car – as we walked back to the mini-bus some of the cast came past us on a golf-buggy-like vehicle and a couple were on bikes, including Rupert Grint.

Phew… that’s it as far as I can remember it. Quite a day, and once again thank you to the friend who arranged it.

We got a dog in January, didn’t go on holiday during the Summer, and then the weather was rotten which made the fact that we didn’t go on holiday just that bit more depressing. I changed jobs in April and I’m now spending less time in Scandinavian airports. Christmas was fun but came and went too quickly.

My best wishes for the time period between the 1st of January and the 31st of December, which is basically a range of dates decided upon by a Roman guy who died a long time ago. There is no real reason to cheer and kiss people at midnight.

If you’ve ever bothered to read the About me page here on dadams.co.uk, or if you’ve known me since school days, you’ll know that I once came very close to fame through music. Okay, close-ish. In my teens I played the six-string guitar quite badly, and then took up the bass guitar when one of my school chums, Al Johnson, needed a bass player for his band. Myself, Al, and drummer David Hunt became a band with no name and no singer, and never played any gigs. But it was fun rehearsing in Dave’s bedroom.

Moving onto Sunbury College I hooked up with a guy named David Tinham, and we were joined by vocalist Caroline Tyers to form a band that again never saw the light of day. After college I answered an ad in the NME and auditioned for an Addlestone-based band featuring Jenna (now with the surname Fox) on vocals, Julian Leech on guitar, and wild-man Gary Puttick on drums. Julian left, was replaced by Gary Howes, and then Julian rejoined. We did play some gigs, just small local venues and we did have a name. I liked the idea of having the word ‘Empire’ in the name and either Gary or Jenna liked the idea of turning it into something German / Gothic… so we adopted the rather daft name of Empire Strasse.

A short time after Empire Strasse disbanded (and Jenna went on to work at Lotus before I arrived there), I was introduced to the guitarist of Heaven Can Wait (another Dave) who were looking for a bass player. After a successful audition I joined vocalist Chris, keyboard player Danny, Dave, drummer Simon (who had been to the same school as me) and the aforementioned Caroline later joined as an occasional backing vocalist.

We played a debut gig in a local pub, and over the next year played a number of gigs… more pubs, the Tunnel Club in Greenwich (still there on the South side of the Blackwall Tunnel, but now has a different name), Zetas in Putney, the Rock Garden in Covent Garden, and the Hammersmith Palais. The Hammersmith Palais? Yep, and we supported two bands that you may have heard of – The Chiefs of Relief (formed after BowWowWow split) and Furniture (remembered for their one and only but rather good hit ‘Brilliant Mind’).

It came to pass that being in a band is expensive. For example, at the Hammersmith Palais and Rock Garden gigs we paid them to play there, but got a cut of the tickets. A good strategy for a band waiting experience and to get noticed, but not a good way of making money. Small pub gigs were actually more lucrative. Rehearsing wasn’t cheap either – whether it was the youth club hall in Addlestone or (if we were feeling flush) the rehearsal studio in Kingston, it all cost money. When the rest of the lads decided they wanted to invest a fairly substantial sum of money in getting a demo tape recorded, I had to decline – it was at the time when the mortgage rate had soared, and I was the only one with such a financial commitment. We went our separate ways, and I was eventually replaced by Peter Parker. No, not that Peter Parker…

Heaven Can Wait didn’t make the big time, so I didn’t miss out on fame and fortune. But I do now hugely regret hanging up my bass guitar and wished I’d kept playing, especially now that Lolli is learning the guitar and is so interested in music. I often find myself staring longingly at shiny bass guitars hanging up in music shops that I pass. Sad, isn’t it?

What’s caused this outpouring of musical nostalgia? When Heaven Can Wait played at the Hammersmith Palais (twice) we paid the guy running the mixing desk to record it on video. At gig #1 the plonker didn’t switch on the sound until two songs into the set. When we played the Palais again five months later we were a much, much better band and our small following said the gig was awesome. Unfortunately the video turned up with no sound at all… so the only record of Heaven Can Wait in action is this old VHS tape recorded from an early gig – I don’t recall the year but I’m going to guess at 1988. At the weekend I found it in a drawer, and after a unsuccessful attempt to transfer it onto my Archos media player my good pal and technology guru Gareth ‘G’ Cook came to the rescue.

A bit of jiggery-pokery on the iMac, and here it is on YouTube – part 1 and part 2. I may upload it again with a higher resolution. Bear in mind that the audio was taken directly from the instruments and microphones, it’s not great quality (the bass isn’t very bassy) and there’s no noise from the crowd – when Chris asks if everyone is having a good time, there’s muted response. There were about three hundred people there, and they did have a good time. Also bear in mind that this was recorded in the late 1980s, and therefore my trousers and all other dodgy styling should be forgiven.

Let’s start with a quote from Mrs A…

How much trouble can a dog that small be?

It was fifteen weeks ago that we picked our new pup Missie. At the time I promised lots more photos, but unless you’re one of my Facebook friends you’ll still be waiting. So here’s one (click on it to see the full picture) that comes from a set of photos taken during an unusually warm spell of April weather and is affectionately known as ‘the swamp creature’.

Missie has changed a lot since those early day – her fur is longer and has changed from all-black (apart from the white tuft on her chest) to mostly-black with hints of gold on her legs, ears and face. She now weighs a whopping 1.8 kilograms, which is amazing considering that she rarely finishes her daily food allowance. She now fits into the coat donated by Wally, another Yorkipoo, which is just as well as she’s grown out of her first ‘coat’ (a British Airways sock with two leg holes).

Toilet training has been the biggest challenge. You often find out things after you’ve made your purchase – apparently small dogs, Yorkshire Terriers in particular, are slower to pick it up. I blame the bad Winter weather to a certain extent, and the fact that until a couple of weeks ago we didn’t have a secure area to easily let her out without being on a lead. I erected a fence around the patio, and then had to further secure it with wire mesh after she discovered she could slip through the tiny gap. For a long time she wouldn’t do her business outside – we’d spend ages in the garden or on a long walk, but she’d hold it in until she got home to the newspaper. Not the idea. The toilet training is improving, but she still has to learn to ask to go out.

Last week saw the start of training classes – after the initial excitement overload of being in a room full of other dogs she got on very well and was the best in the class for fetch and recall. Walking to heel needs some work. This week I’ve been working with her on ‘sit’ – the only progress is that now she’s okay with me pressing her backside down on the floor, but she won’t sit to order.

On the whole she’s been a very good girl – there’s been no damage to the house (touch wood) apart from the odd wet patch. Occasionally a slipper or Croc goes missing, and the ends of some of my shoe-laces look like they’ve been chewed… both Mrs A and Lolli deny responsibility, so I have a feeling I know who the culprit is.

It was actually quite scary how quickly this happened – a few weeks ago Mrs A finally agreed with Lolli that we would get a new dog, but plan it to coincide with the start of school holidays. The pair of them then started looking at where they would get the right dog from… the ‘right dog’ being a Yorkipoo, a Yorkshire Terrier / Poodle cross. This cross-breed has the advantage of being hand-bag sized and not dropping hair. While I was at Lotusphere they located a litter with a female pup, and by the time I got home we’d made an appointment to collect it, subject to certain conditions (i.e. a healthy puppy, seeing the mother, etc). A small fortune had already been spent on doggy equipment.

Mrs A had some last minute wobbles as we drove to Essex, but the doubts melted away when she saw the tiny black fluffy bundle. ‘Missie’, as Lolli has named her, came from a litter of five. We saw the mother (a lovely tiny Yorkshire Terrier who wasn’t much bigger than her offspring), and observed that the family who owned both parents had given the puppies the best start in life – everything was in order, and it was a very good sign when the lady insisted that we rubbed antibacterial lotion on our hands before touching the pup. You hear so many bad stories about dog breeders and puppy farms, but there were no concerns here. The initial vaccinations had been done, the puppies were already ‘paper-trained’ and had a proper feeding regime.

Missie is now back at Adams Tower, and Lolli is on cloud nine. Mrs A said that she’ll be cooking sweet and sour chicken tonight, but I have a feeling it’ll be delayed.

Click on the photo to see a larger version, and I’m sure there’ll be more soon. Lots more.

Here at Adams Tower we love Christmas, and every year I have to persuade Mrs A to hold back on playing the Christmas music until a reasonable date. 1st November is too early, even though the Harrods Christmas department opens in August. As we get to late November, and the sound of Bing Crosby’s crooning and whistling wafts out from the iPod speakers, I consider how ridiculous the lyrics of White Christmas are… for traditionally Christmas in the South East of England is a rather grey affair. Tree tops seldom glisten, and the only sound children listen for is their parents telling them it’s stopped raining so they can go outside on their new bikes.

What a shame, I’ve always thought, that Christmas doesn’t live up to that romantic image conjured up by the songs of Bing, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Perry Como and, of course, Shakin’ Stevens… until now.

According to the Met Office…

…the definition of an official white Christmas used most widely, notably by those placing and taking bets, is for a single snow flake (perhaps amongst a shower of rain and snow mixed) to be observed falling in the 24 hours of 25 December.

That’s a bit of a swizz really, because a single snow flake (or even a few) isn’t going to make the tree tops glisten or children listen to… okay, you get the point. We did get a fair amount of snow on 17th December, so much in fact that I didn’t drive my car again until Christmas Day itself when there was still an extensive covering around Adams Towers, making the landscape rather white. But I don’t think any snow fell on that day… so officially it wasn’t a white Christmas. And that’s a bit daft.

So, do I want a white Christmas for 2010? Right now I’d have to say “not really”. As you’re probably aware, Britain is in the grip of the coldest Winter for many years. It may be my fault actually, because while in Finland a couple of months ago I remember saying to someone “we rarely get snow”. Irony, we are told, is a fickle mistress. The “cold snap” has dominated the news and caused chaos for millions, thus leading to the perennial debate about Britain being generally crap as a nation in dealing with the white stuff. While some people are wondering what the fuss is about, spare a thought for us.

Two days after the main fall of snow we’re still stranded up here in the heights of Camberley. To get to Adams Towers we go up our avenue (and I do mean ‘up’ because it slopes upwards), and then up a narrow lane (again, up) and then our drive slopes down. So typically I have to reverse up the drive to get out – and because of my BMW being rear-wheel drive (I think) that doesn’t work very well in snow. The narrow lane, because of the lack of traffic, tends to stay snowy for a long time – and that makes it very difficult to get back up.

Mrs A’s Mini is far better at dealing with these conditions, but even this brave little vehicle has it’s limits. The snow on our drive was (is, still) eleven inches deep. Okay, I know we can clear that in a few hours and throw down some grit from the dwindling supply. Mrs A’s idea was to clear two tracks (one for each path of the wheels) to get up and down the lane. However, the snow was so deep that it would have piled up as the car pushed it… so she spent around five hours clearing the entire lane (using hitherto unknown muscles and crippling herself in the process). However, the avenue is covered with six inches of snow which has been compacted by numerous vehicles. That in itself is very difficult to negotiate.

So how can we get better with tackling the snow-related problems. I know some things now… don’t step on the snow you intend to clear, stay off it so that it doesn’t get compacted. Buy yourself a big shovel and have your own personal supply of salty grit (don’t rely on the grit bunkers in the avenue, it’s all gone). What else could I do? Buy one of those much-maligned four-wheel drive juggernauts? Oh yes, the owners of those gas-guzzlers are looking a bit smug right now.

Bing, me old mate… White Christmas… nice idea and provides some good photo opportunities but, to be honest, it’s a pain in the backside. I think I’d rather stick with the grey ones, just like I’ve always known.

A couple things to add to this ongoing saga. Clearly we’re on the threshold of an apocalypse, because the supermarket (name withheld for legal reasons) in Camberley town centre had run out of milk. Later in the day, as if to illustrate the British approach to managing life in the snow, a removal van attempted to get up around the bend on the avenue and failed miserably. It reversed and tried again. And then again. The smell of it’s burning clutch permeated my nostrils, despite having just got over a life-threatening cold. An hour later, it was joined by another removal van… 18:15 in the evening, and the new residents were still waiting for their furniture. I don’t know the final outcome, but it wasn’t looking promising.

Then Mrs A asked why, if global warming is taking hold, are we having such a cold Winter. I explained… as the polar ice caps melt they dump lots of fresh water into the Atlantic. This has an effect on the cycle of salt water which brings warmth from the South West regions of the ocean, thus causing temperatures to drop in our neck of the woods. And then I realised that was the basis of the plot for ‘The Day After Tomorrow’ and therefore may not be totally true (even if it does sound feasible).

Don’t worry, this won’t take long. I’ve seen a lot of links for ’10 things’ today, either for the year or the decade, and I really can’t be bothered to do my own. Anyway, most people will be out boozing tonight and nursing a hangover tomorrow, so there’s no point, no-one will be reading this.

I started the decade (i.e. January 2000) in my first management role, heading up a team within the larger Lotus Technical Sales team… the Technology Advocates were specialists (experts you could say). What a line-up… Rob ‘Choddo’ Hayden, Tony ‘Woody’ Cocks, Andrew ‘Thommo’ Thomas, Ed ‘Tedwardo’ Hollands and Mike (he didn’t have a nickname) Hayward. My c.v. says I had a team of eight, so if anyone could remind me of who the other three were I’d be grateful. I think the overall structure of Technical Sales was quite fluid in those days. Three of that original team eventually went to Microsoft, although only one remains there.

Sixteen months later, after watching my manager deal with the biggest pile of expenses I’d ever seen and then promptly leave (for Microsoft), I took over as Lotus Technical Sales Manager for North Region – which consisted of the UK, Ireland, the Netherlands and, of course, South Africa. Don’t even try to understand it. I got the news of my promotion while I was in Prague for Choddo’s stag weekend. Blah blah blah, a couple of other things, current role.

dadams.co.uk started in 1999 so it was around for the whole of the decade, albeit not in it’s current form running on WordPress. There was a time when it boasted a synopsis of all South Park episodes from the first three seasons – I remain a huge fan and was glad that it got back on track following poor 4th and 5th seasons. My first post of the decade on dadams.co.uk discussed ‘The Millennium Bug’. Since then, the web site has undergone a series of face-lifts and a major upheaval in April 2007 when it was moved to WordPress rather than hand-written HTML using Dreamweaver.

On the personal side… the saddest event of the decade was the death of my dad (September 2006), and never being one to do things by halves he died less than a week before we moved house. I flew out to Florida on a Monday morning, attended his funeral the next day, arrived back home on Wednesday morning and we moved on the Thursday. Three years later I’ve painted every square inch of wall and ceiling (not including the bathrooms) and lived through a major kitchen re-fit.

Travel-wise, we made two trips to New York (we had to cancel the first one planned – September 2001), we went to Chicago for the first time ever, and I made four trips to Orlando for Lotusphere. The Adams clan went to Menorca every year of the decade, I went to South Africa a few times, and made debut trips to Denmark and Norway.

So that’s about it. Achievements? I’ve managed to keep us solvent despite Mrs A’s best attempt to spend every penny I’ve earned (only joking dearest… put that rolling pin down). And I’ve watched my lovely daughter Lauren (a.k.a. Lolli) grow from a cute toddler to a wonderful beautiful (not to mention clever and humorous) girl who plays the flute, has a huge array of gymnastic medals and an eye for fashion (that’ll cost me too), and regularly baffles her mother with her grasp of technology.

And finally, a new year resolution? Yes… 1920 x 1200.

On Christmas Eve I announced via Twitter the sad passing of Mrs A’s laptop. I was on the phone and from behind me I could hear the unmistakable sound of a hard disk in the throes of death. By the time the conference call had finished, the Windows desktop had disappeared and had been replaced by a black screen with the words ‘disk error’ (or something to that effect). Attempts to bring the old beast back to life failed. And it was an old beast – a single core processor of dubious ability, half a gigabyte of RAM and a hard disk which constantly struggled for space. For the best part of a year I’d been telling Mrs A we should replace it, usually in response to a complaint about it’s speed or the fact that it would give up it’s wi-fi connection at regular intervals.

The hard disk failure has now forced the issue, even if it might be possible to retrieve some of the data (most importantly the contents of Mrs A’s Thunderbird e-mail account which apparently contains items of incredible importance). Thus I started to think about a suitable replacement. Mrs A’s computer usage doesn’t demand a high-spec laptop – it’s mainly e-mail and Internet shopping – so a Macbook would seem to be an expensive option. Something around the £350 mark, with a dual-core processor and 2 gb of RAM is more than enough. I’m not being a skin-flint, Mrs A will testify to my Christmas generosity, but the cheapest option is a netbook. Would it be too small though? Would the portability be a worthless factor given that it would rarely, if ever, leave the house? So here I am considering the technical and logistical issues of a laptop versus a netbook.

Mrs A’s response… “hey, I could buy a Juicy Couture bag for it to fit in”. I rest my case.

There’s good spam and there’s bad spam… bad spam offers me a dangerous array of dubious prescription drugs and the chance to receive money from some extremely generous Nigerian bankers. Good spam is harmless but unwanted… and sometimes it’s received because at some point in the past I purchased something or maybe even submitted my own e-mail address. I’m talking about the offer of an array of Christmas gifts from a company which offers acres of land situated on other places in the solar system, the chance to become a Scottish laird or lady, and even an opportunity to adopt a grape vine.

It probably won’t surprise you that I already own an acre of the Moon – it was a gift a few years ago. The package contains a certificate (the lunar deed) and a map of the Moon – X marking the spot of my acre, a nice plot North-East of the Oceanus Procellarum – both of which take pride of place on the wall of my home office. I do realise that I’ll probably never visit the plot in person, and will probably never get rich if NASA discover a rich vein of minerals running through it, but I do get the telescope out occasionally to make sure no-one is trespassing. I have briefly considered how much rights as a land-owner I would have should the Moon ever be colonised, but it’s filed under ‘unlikely’. Nevertheless, an acre on the Moon does constitute something tangible, and as for an acre of Mars… well, maybe one day mankind will step foot on the red planet. But an acre of Venus…?

This strikes me as a bum deal. Within seconds of setting foot on Venus you would resemble a hamburger. The atmospheric pressure, over 90 times that of Earth’s, would squash you flat. And then the 470 °C temperatures would have a cooking effect on your flesh and organs. The sulphuric acid rain would also add to the general unpleasantness of your visit. With 60% of sunlight bouncing back off Venus’ thick atmosphere, the view of the dried and crusty volcanic landscape will be terrible.

Venus is nearly the same size as Earth, so it’s much bigger than Mars or the Moon – and that means there’s more one-acre plots to sell. So bearing in mind there’s no shortage of Venusian land and it’s overall lack of attraction, why does the land there cost the same as Mars and the Moon? It’s a bit daft if you ask me.