Oh, to be a mobile developer

I’m no developer. I’ve not written any programming code since the family VIC 20 passed away. These days I tinker with the occasional HTML tag but that’s about it. Instead I write in a rather more conventional language, favouring Roget’s Thesaurus and the Oxford English Dictionary as my SDK.

But that didn’t stop me thoroughly enjoying Over The Air 2011, an event aimed squarely at mobile developers.

Here's the blog post I wrote about OTA11 for TheFonecast.com:

The text message just said "Yellow Citroën hatchback". At least the diaeresis on the ë was in the right place. It meant the stranger who was giving me a lift from the station was probably an urbane French speaker. Either that, or they had surprisingly good predictive text on their phone. The third possibility - a serial killer with an old Sagem - hadn't crossed my mind yet.

It was at this point I realised I'd already fallen for Over The Air, a unique event aimed at mobile developers. Throwing caution to the wind, I'd arranged a lift there via Twitter with a mysterious developer I'd never met. Or spoken to.

I needn't have worried. The mystery developer turned out to have an iPhone mounted on the dashboard of their yellow Citroën. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Two and a half hours later, having talked about everything from religious homophobes to battery life (via Doctor Who and greenhouse gases) with no obvious disagreements, we arrived at Bletchley Park. This definitely had the makings of a Very Good Day.

I'll admit the sight of the mansion, the huts and the grounds didn't really impress me. It's not that I'm soulless, just that I'd previously been there in the 1980s when BT used some of the buildings to host training courses for their telephone engineers. Yes, Alan Turing and I worked on the same site, albeit decades apart. However, I doubt that Mr Turing played table tennis and drank lager in the evening after a day of soldering practice and safety films. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I'd pass the test that bears his name.

Delegates who'd arrived for the 10am start had been welcomed by an introductory talk from Dr Sue Black, Bletchley Park campaigner and Senior Research Associate in software engineering at UCL. Slow traffic and GPS failure on the iPhone had delayed us, so Sue generously revisited her keynote speech and explained to me why Bletchley was so important to the nation... and to developers in particular. The answers are in Saturday's podcast; listen out for the phrases "geek Mecca", "shortened the war" and "world's first digital programmable computer".

Next on my interview list was co-founder Daniel Appelquist, who took time out from keeping the entire event on track to discuss the aims and ambitions of OTA.

Also happy to chat was Paul Johnston, a man who was in the fortunate position of living nearby. Not for him the pitching of tents on the lawn or the secret Coca-cola hoarding in preparation for all-night coding. I could have talked to him for much longer but it was time to hear some of the presentations.

Hang on moment. I'm getting ahead of myself. You'll find my conversations with Sue, Dan and Paul online at TheFonecast.com: listen online, subscribe via RSS, get it on iTunes or download the MP3. And on Friday you'll be able to hear part 2 of my report, which includes some of those presentation speakers.

As for my love affair with Over The Air, I'm already counting the days until we meet again.

Working with words

Time for a brief mention about work for those who wonder what I do when I'm not writing. As well as being a copywriter, I’m also a podcaster for The Fonecast. We produce weekly broadcasts of UK mobile industry news for everyone from dealers to developers, covering all the top stories from within the mobile phone business. You’ll find our podcasts on iTunes, from our RSS feed and on the home page of our website.

From advertising to looting

I’m not going to offer any kind of in-depth analysis of the recent riots in the UK. I’m neither qualified to do this nor have I any personal experience to add.

However, having just read and agreed with much of Kate Bevan’s blog post, I’ve decided to offer a few slightly-connected thoughts.

This morning I spotted a message on the front of my wife’s body wash. (A free gift. But I digress). “Lovingly created in the UK”, it says.

Looking at the back of the package you’ll find the comment “Made in the Czech Republic”.

Yes, it’s been ‘created’ in the UK… but it’s not made in the UK. Oh, dear me, no. As if. I mean, you couldn’t possibly think one meant the other, could you?

A new advertisement on the back of our local buses encourages us to ‘relax’, showing a woman with her hands behind her head and her elbows where her fellow-passengers’ heads should be.

That’s okay, isn’t it? It’s hyperbole… or a serving suggestion… or something like that. It's not dishonest, surely?

The path from a few weasel words to breaking into the Carphone Warehouse isn’t a short journey. But I reckon both are on the same road. A little less spin, a little more respect, and the world would be a better place.

Business bookshelf

I thought the bookshelf in my office was worthy of a photo. As you'd expect, some books are used much more than others. ('Words that sell' is a guilty pleasure, while Fowler offers more pleasure and less guilt).

When it comes to credit card security, apparently less is now more

MBNA, my credit card issuer, has sent me an email saying it's dropping the MasterCard SecureCode 3D Secure scheme. This is the security procedure that asks me to enter a password when shopping online.

It says "Using your card online is now easier and more secure", adding that "All online payments will be authorised instantly, whilst still providing all the security features you have come to expect from us."

Which is odd because the card issuer originally said 3D Secure offered added protection.

So... offering the service increased the amount of protection I had... and then taking it away gave me even more protection.




PS: "Servcies"? I'd like to think my financial services providers didn't make too many mistakes.

Copywriters are frauds

Sometimes I feel that I’m more a forger than a copywriter.

I meet a client and write in their voice. I adopt their style. I praise their products like an employee.

They’re writing songs. I’m writing a pastiche. It's an analogy I rather like.

Thanks for visiting our online shop, please don't come back

I've done a spot of online shopping this morning. I bought a collection of cables & leads to connect my computer to my TV. It was all pretty straightforward; I found what I wanted in the online shop, added the item to my 'basket' and paid by using Google Checkout.

Got an email receipt from Google and another from the retailer. All's well.

Half-an-hour later I get a second email from the retailer.

"Thank you for stopping by", it says "We noticed that during your visit to our site you placed the following item(s) in your shopping cart, but did not complete the transaction."

It then describes the item I've just bought.

Oh. Perhaps the purchase didn't work. But hang on, I've got a receipt for my payment via Google. Perhaps there's a problem with the online shop.

There's a "Recover Your Basket" link in the email. Maybe I should click that.

"We are always interested in knowing what reason made you decide not to purchase at this time. If you could be so kind as to let us know if you had any issues or concerns, we would appreciate it. We are asking for feedback from you and others as to how we can make your experience better."

That's nice. But what about those cables and leads I've ordered?

"If the price was an issue, we can provide you with 5% off this purchase with us, if you come back today!"

You WHAT? I've already paid for the goods, you're telling me you've already mislaid my order and now you want to give me a discount.

"PLEASE NOTE: If you selected either PayPal or Google Checkout as a payment option, or purchased from our Ebay Store then please just ignore this email!"

Oh, that's alright then. I'll ignore the discount I could have had if I'd prevaricated. I'll ignore your poor attempt at customer service. That jolly exclamation mark makes it all okay. Thank you. I won't be back.