Tag Archives: free software

The pleasure of being a lone wolf

The WordPress consulting world has, of late, been all about consolidation and upsizing. Firms get larger by hiring independents and acquiring smaller businesses. Every week I read countless tweets and blog posts about the joys of working for a larger team: the camaraderie, the efficiencies of scale, the pleasure of getting a regular paycheck. And as a longtime solo freelancer, I’m very sensitive to the shortcomings of being a lone wolf.

At the same time, I try not to forget the beauty of going it alone. First and foremost is the flexibility. Aside from my personal expenses, I have no payroll and practically no overhead. I’m able to turn down work that seems unpleasant or doesn’t jibe with my philosophical predilections, even when the work would pay very well. If I have a good few months and feel like not taking on any more projects for a while, I can do so. I can spend as much time as I’d like working pro bono on free software. On the flip side, when someone approaches with a project that sounds fun but might not pay well, I can take it, guilt-free.

Flying solo also means that I’m constantly being integrated in and out of new teams and projects. I’m constantly exposed to new workflows, new tools, new technologies, new ideas. Sometimes the rootlessness feels lonely, but it can also be exhilarating.

It’s not so bad being a loner.

Affirmations for the free software developer

A friend recently came to me to express some frustration. He’s the leader of a relatively new free software project, and was having his first run-in with a user who was making extensive, arguably unreasonable support demands, in a tone that was increasingly hostile. If you’ve ever contributed to a public project, you have probably had similar experiences.

I responded to him with the following words of “wisdom”. Nothing terribly original here, but I have to remind myself of these points on a regular basis.

  • For every one user who engages with you in an unpleasant way, there are 10 users who provide feedback and request support in a friendly and reasonable manner, and 100 people who are using the software happily and asking for nothing.
  • People only bother to complain about something if they care about it.
  • Obviously, you want to be fair and kind to people who come to you for help. But your capacity to give a shit is like currency: it exists in finite quantities. It’s better to spend it on something that’ll provide positive good in the world, than to dump it into a bottomless pit.

GPL and free software language for government contracts

This weekend at BuddyCamp Miami (which ruled btw) I chatted with a number of folks about putting GPL clauses into client contracts. It can be especially challenging when working with universities or other bureaucracies that have hardcore, work-for-hire-ish intellectual property clauses already built into their consultant contract boilerplate. On a number of occasions, my clients and I have worked with the legal departments at universities to develop new language that fits the spirit and law of GPL software. In my opinion, this kind of work is among the most important work I’ve done since I started in this business, even more important than most of the software I’ve written. By having the discussions with legal, and by getting free-software-friendly boilerplate on their books, we take steps toward legitimatizing free software in the university, and making it part of the culture.

Anyway, I was asked privately to share some of this contract language, and I figured it would be more useful to do it in a blog post than in an email. So here are a few examples that have been approved by the legal departments at large universities. (Side note: We should come up with a system for sharing these kinds of strategy docs in a more organized way.)

  1. This clause replaced one university’s extremely restrictive IP boilerplate:

    Foundation acknowledges and agrees that enhancements, bug fixes and other custom developments produced under the scope of this agreement will be subject to release under the GNU Public License v2, or another compatible and relevant open-source license.

  2. The following clause is added as a footnote to the existing language about IP:

    Section VIII (1-3) shall not apply when work is being performed in the public domain. Consultant agrees to comply with the GNU General Public License version 2, as set out in the Attachment #2, when work is being performed in the public domain.

    A few notes about the language in this second example (which their lawyers wrote, not me). First, “Attachment #2″ is a copy of the GPLv2. Second, I think there is a little bit of confusion here about “public domain”, because strictly speaking, “public domain” means that no one owns the copyright, while the GPL is dependent on copyright. I think the spirit of the phrase “performed in the public domain” is supposed to be something like “written for public consumption”. But a literal reading of this clause probably means that I must relinquish copyright over the work done under this contract into the public domain. In this specific case, the end goal is for me to extend one of my existing GPL-licensed WordPress plugins; so I will then be integrating this newly-created public-domain code into the plugin, and then distributing the whole thing under the GPL, with a note that the newly added library is in the public domain. This is not ideal, but it’s OK for this case where I’m building a standalone add-on for my own work – good enough not to continue negotiations :)

If I can dig up others, I’ll post them here. If you have real-life examples, please share in the comments.

Doom and gloom upon the offing of Google Reader

This week, Google announced that it’s shutting down Reader. This is the first of Google’s “sunsets” that hits me personally – Reader has been a crucial part of my internet use for the better part of a decade. I happen to think, like Marco Arment, that in the long run the loss of Google Reader will probably be good for innovation in RSS readers and for RSS in general. Google’s hamstrung app has been just good enough for people like me, but non-approachable for non-geeks. A year from now, I’m hoping that there’ll be many more quality players. So, in the long run, I’m reasonably optimistic.

More immediately, though, a couple of causes for concern:

  1. Finding an alternative to Reader. My RSS reading habits are too ingrained for me to abandon them, even for a short time. More than that: following RSS feeds is beyond mere habit, but is check on my intellectual honesty. I follow many blogs whose authors I frequently disagree with, or even dislike. (Contrast this with Twitter, where I’m pretty fickle about whom I follow, and how many tweets/links I pay attention to.) So RSS is, for me, a partial antidote to the echo chamber tendency. That means that I’ve got to find a new app, and migrate over, and I’ve got to do it quickly.

    There have been a number of posts over the last couple days listing Reader alternatives. A number of them are cloud/service based, and for practical reasons (such as, um, Google Reader) as well as philosophical reasons (see below), I’m only considering alternative tools that I can run either locally or on my own server. A couple that spring to mind:

    • Fever. I’m interested in this one because (a) the screenshots make it look nice, and (b) it comes highly recommended by people I respect, like D’Arcy Norman. I like that it’s self-hosted. I don’t like the fact that its sustainability model is to charge for downloads. It’s not that I don’t think the author shouldn’t be paid – I would be happy to pay $30 or $300 for a great RSS reader app. It’s that the success of the single-developer model is contingent on the willingness of that developer to keep working on the project (paid or otherwise). I’m far more comfortable with software that is community developed under a free license, ideally using a set of technologies that would allow me to modify or even adopt the project if the main devs were to abandon it.
    • Tiny Tiny RSS. tt-rss also comes recommended by someone I respect (Mika Epstein, in this case). And it’s community-developed, which I like. It doesn’t look as pretty as Fever, but aesthetics are about fourth or fifth on my list of requirements.
    • PressForward. As Aram describes, the PF team (of which I’m pleased to be a member) is working on a WordPress-based tool that, among other things, does RSS aggregation and provides some feed-reading capabilities. PressForward is really designed for a different kind of use case – where groups of editors work together to pare down large amounts of feed data into smaller publications – but it could be finagled to be a simple feed reader. Mobile support is a particular pain point, as 50% or more of my RSS intake is done on my phone, and PF has nothing in place to make this possible at the present time. So, PressForward may not be quite ready for primetime, but I do think that it has promise.
  2. Get the hell off of Google. We all know that Google is a company with shareholders and profit goals to meet. Yet we often act like Google is some sort of ambient benevolent force on the web. Since I started Project Reclaim, I’ve been working on extricating myself and my data from the clutches of Google (among other corporate entities). Reader’s demise is a wake-up call that the time for dilly-dallying is over.

    For my own part, I still use a few Google services besides Reader:

    • Gmail. I don’t use Gmail primarily anymore, though many people do still email me at my gmail.com address, so obviously I have it open and I check it frequently.
    • Picasa. I use the Picasa desktop app on OSX to export photos from my cameras and organize/tag them. I also use Picasa Web Albums as one of my many photo backup services. (Seriously – I back up my photos to no fewer than six different local and cloud services. Nothing is more important or irreplaceable than my family photos.)
    • Drive/Docs. Aside from the occasional one-off collaborations, I use Drive to maintain a number of spreadsheets and other documents that I share with members of my family, etc.
    • Calendar. I’m not a heavy calendar user, but when I do use a calendar, I like Google because of its integration with my Android phone.
    • Chromium. Not Chrome, but still largely Google-reliant, Chromium is not my main browser, but I use it daily for doing various sorts of development testing.
    • Android. This is maybe the one that steams me the most, because at the moment there are no truly free alternatives. (Firefox OS, please hurry up.)

    In some of these cases, there are easy ways to get off of the Google services. In others, it’ll be a challenge to find alternatives that provide the same functionality. In any case, the Reader slaughter is a harsh reminder that Project Reclaim has stagnated too long with respect to Google services.

    More than myself, I’m worried about others – those who aren’t as technically inclined as I am, or those who simply don’t care as much as I do. Google’s made it pretty clear (as is their right, I guess) that they’re not an ambient benevolence. Those who rely on Google then, especially for critical services like email, should take this warning very seriously. Please consider carefully what you’re doing when you make yourself wholly dependent on the whim’s of Google’s product managers, and consider options that are either free-as-in-speech, or services that you pay for in a traditional way.

Commons In A Box, ready to unbox

It’s been a long time coming, but it’s here: Commons In A Box. Today we’re releasing version 1.0-beta1, the first public release. For some background on Commons In A Box, here’s today’s press release, my Commons Dev Blog post explaining some of the features of Commons In A Box, and the 2011 press release announcing the project.

The primary goal of Commons In A Box, in my view, is to reduce the barrier of entry to setting up BuddyPress community sites. BuddyPress is an extremely powerful and flexible platform for developing social WordPress sites, but getting a BP site right takes knowledge (which plugins are worth installing, which ones work best together, etc) and elbow-grease (customizing your theme, keeping a complex system up to date). These practical requirements have made BuddyPress seem imposing to many users – including, and perhaps especially, the users that need free community software the most, such as educational institutions. Commons In A Box lowers these barriers in a serious way, by helping with plugin selection and installation, and by providing a beautiful and flexible default theme. My hope is that Commons In A Box will serve as a gateway for a swath of potential users into the world of BuddyPress, WordPress, and free software more generally.

The process of pitching, planning, and producing Commons In A Box has been interesting, frustrating, and rewarding. In the upcoming weeks and months, I may write more about this process, and what I’ll personally take away from it. In the meantime, I’ll say that I’m very pleased to be ending this first stage of development, and pushing it into the wild, since software – even imperfect software – is infinitely more valuable when it’s out there, being used, than when it’s mouldering on a developer’s machine. Shipping FTW!

Learn more about Commons In A Box.

Three talks in Vancouver

For those Bo(o)neheads who follow me to every event in VW vans, I’ll be giving three talks in Vancouver next month:

  1. BuddyPress: Beyond Facebook Clones, Oct 13, WordCamp Vancouver. I’ll highlight some uses of BP that are not straightforward social networks. (BTW, if you know of any really cool ones, please let me know in the comments!)
  2. Free Software and the University: The Story of the CUNY Academic Commons, Oct 14, BuddyCamp Vancouver. I’ll be using the story of the Commons as an excuse to rant about an allegory about the importance of free software in public schools.
  3. Getting Started with BuddyPress Plugins, Oct 14, BuddyCamp Vancouver. I’ll be giving an overview of what WordPress plugin developers need to know about getting their feet wet with BP plugins.

“I am not a programmer”

I am not a programmer.

Spend a few minutes in a place where software users interact with software developers – support forums, dev trackers, face-to-face team meetings – and you’re bound to hear this phrase used (or one of its relatives: I am not [a geek|a developer|a coder|tech-savvy], etc). It’s a statement of fact, and a useful statement at that, since the kind of help offered to a “programmer” is obviously quite different from what’s offered to someone who’s not.

But The Phrase is so much more than that. It’s a strategic move in a social game. Its uses fall into roughly two categories: a cry for empathy, and a deflection of responsibility.

A cry for empathy

I am not a programmer often means Go easy on me. Ask yourself: Why would someone go out of their way to ask for empathy in this way?

Sometimes it’s a way for a n00b to test the waters. Newcomers to a software community don’t always know the community conventions for asking for help. Labeling oneself as “not a programmer” is a gentle way of gauging how others react to new folks.

More frequently, in my experience, I am not a programmer is used by people who have been burned in the past. Maybe the user once asked a question and got an answer that was over her head. Maybe the discussion turned sour when the developers looked down their noses at someone who couldn’t understand a few lines of code. When this happens, I am not a programmer is a shield, a preemptive attempt to guard against the abuse that the asker rightly or wrongly expects to receive.

I wrote a post a while back on how this looks from the developer’s point of view. The gist, so far as this use of The Phrase is concerned, is that developers should be as empathetic as possible in these situations. For one thing, treating people with kindness is just the right thing to do. Beyond that, it’s important to the future of the community to extend a hand to potential contributors.

A deflection of responsibility

The other common use of I am not a programmer is something like: I’m not technical, so don’t even try to get me to crack the hood, which often amounts to I refuse to make an honest attempt. Do it for me.

This phenomenon is, in part, a side effect of the fact that I work with WordPress. WP is unusual among free software projects in that “ease of use” has always been central to its development strategy. The Dashboard, the inline updater, the plugin installer, the five-minute install – all are the result of a conscious effort by WP devs to make the barrier for entry as low as possible. And it’s worked. Without touching so much as a semi-colon of code, you can set up a beautiful and powerful website using WP and the some of the thousands of readily available plugins and themes.

On balance, this is a Very Good Thing. But it also sets up, in the mind of the average user, a certain (incorrect) understanding and set of (unreasonable) expectations about how free software works. In the world of commercial software, the development process is deliberately shrouded from end users. Apple (to take an example) has support forums. But the solutions offered here are always “click here” and “type this”, never “change this code” or “hack this” – if for no other reason than that the software is designed to be un-hack-friendly. In the case of open source software, the source code is available. Thus there is no enforced distinction between those who write the code and those who use it. For users of free software who are accustomed to the proprietary model, it’s hard to get your head around the idea that you can – and should! – be hacking it as part of the troubleshooting process.

Moreover, people who are accustomed to paying for software are used to getting a minimal level of functionality and support in exchange for their license fees. Free software has no license fees. But there persists a sense, in the minds of some users, of “How could you release something that is not 100% working?”. They approach support as a consumer transaction; the idea that troubleshooting could be a collaborative endeavor between users and devs, and that this troubleshooting is part of a larger arc of software development, is totally foreign to them. This seems especially true in the case of WordPress, which is so easy to use that it sets user expectations very high.

It’s perfectly understandable that the move from proprietary to free software would be jarring for users. But it’s not OK for these users to attempt to force their commercial expectations on a non-commercial community. The blurring of the line between user and developer, where users occasionally take a deep breath and crack open the hood, is a crucial part of the way free software is developed. It’s how bugs get fixed, and it’s how new devs emerge from the larger community. I am not a programmer, when it means I refuse to step outside my comfort zone, does active harm to the software project. It’s not that everyone has to become a “programmer” – it’s perfectly fine if you have no desire to get technical. But to deflect the issue altogether – especially with incredulity or anger, as if it’s totally unbelievable that you may be asked to do something technical – is a violation of the free software ethos.

So, next time you see a support request prefaced with “I am not a programmer…”, show a little empathy – but not too much :)

The “patronage model” for free software freelancers

The problem of the free software freelancer

Many contributors to free software projects fall roughly into one of two categories:

  1. Employees whose employers who have taken a stance to support free software development – like Facebook or Automattic
  2. Hobbyists who contribute in their spare time

In some ways, these two categories represent the extremes of a spectrum: the first group contributes because it’s their job while the latter contributes because they love it. These motivations are by no means mutually exclusive; I’d hope that most people who are paid to work on free software also love to do it. But this short list does describe what I would call the two “pure” drivers of contribution.

Between the two extremes lies a considerable gray area, where the two varieties of motivation – love and money – may coexist in the same person, yet point in different directions. Take me. I am a freelancer, specializing in development and consulting on WordPress and related technologies. On the one hand, I’m an ideological advocate for free software, and I love contributing. On the other hand, the dynamics of the freelancer’s situation often discourage contribution. There are only so many hours in my day, and when the work hours are spent doing client work for WordPress, I hardly want to devote my limited free time to working on WordPress for free. And clients have a bunch of perfectly understandable reasons for not wanting to share the work that they’re paying for: they don’t want to spend more money than necessary to get their site working, they want the competitive edge that may come from secrecy, and so on. The two “pure” motivations for contributing are in conflict with each other.

The patronage model

To combat the conflict, so that I can contribute more, I’ve moved increasingly toward what I think of as a “patronage” model. Broadly, the idea is that clients fund the process of turning the custom-developed features (that they were already going to pay for) into something that can be contributed back to the free software community; in exchange, they get certain benefits, like prestige and publicity. For me, the strategy has come down to a couple of key rules.

  • Learn to preach the free software gospel – People and organizations like to feel that they’re being good citizens. So I’m prepared to explain to potential clients how their particular contributions, and free software stewardship more generally, can provide broader benefit. The nature of the pitch differs depending on the specific client and feature, but there’s almost always a larger story to be told about how the software community would be improved by the contribution in question. It can be useful to explain how the dynamics of free software development differ from proprietary retail software: Propietary software is developed on speculation, where the hope is that the upfront cost will be recovered by huge volume at low prices. In contrast, the vast majority of free software users don’t pay anything, which leaves the Kind And Generous Samaritans to bear the brunt. Don’t be afraid to sound lofty – in cases where the software wouldn’t be built without the patronage, the patron really is doing something wonderful.
  • Stop accepting work from the wrong kinds of clients – In contrast to the foregoing rule, some potential clients don’t care about “being good citizens”, and no amount of clever proselytizing will change their minds. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this attitude: one of the freedoms of free software is the freedom to use it without any moral obligation to “give back”. But, as a developer who does care about the community, I’m not interested in working for this kind of client. So I don’t.
  • Only accept client work that can result in contributions – Most client jobs, at least in web development, are primarily about implementation – taking off-the-shelf software, maybe installing some plugins and customizing a theme. This kind of work generally does not require the kinds of novel development or deep bugfixing that results in meaningful community contributions. There is nothing wrong with this kind of work. But, personally, I don’t find it as inherently interesting as novel development, and it doesn’t make the best use of my limited development time. Thus, I usually only take on a job if it looks like I’ll be able to spin off something truly new.
  • Break down the cost structure – It costs more to build something for broad use than it does to build something for a single client. Every time you have to add a UI for options, or abstract a piece of code for more customizability, it takes time and money. Be honest with the client about how much extra money it will take to turn bespoke code into something distributable. This also means being strategic about itemizing the project scope. When writing a spec for the project, try to separate out those parts that could be turned into something distributable, so that it’ll be easier to provide an honest breakdown. There may also be cases where a client wants to contribute, but doesn’t have a clear idea how to do so – in these cases, don’t be afraid to suggest ways of dividing up the project so as to provide the biggest benefit to the community.
  • Provide the right kinds publicity for the patron – Make it clear to the client the ways in which they’ll receive credit. Some ideas: Include the patron’s name in the name of the plugin. Write a blog post or some tweets thanking them for their patronage. Include the patron as a co-author. Maintain a credits.txt file in your codebase.
  • Include strict licensing and IP clauses in the contract – I include language in all of my contracts to the effect of: All custom development for this project is subject to release under the GPLv2 or another relevant free software license. I do not do work-for-hire type clauses, or other arrangements that involve giving exclusive intellectual property rights to the client, because I want to maintain the right to release the software under a free license. I’ll admit that this stipulation has caused me a good deal of trouble in the last year, but it’s extremely important to me for two reasons. First, I’m an active contributor to the very same free software projects that my clients want to use in their projects. If I develop something proprietary for them, and then (knowingly or unknowingly) I include this proprietary code in something with a free license, I could be held liable for violating the license terms both of the project and of the client. Second, and more germane to the discussion here, every hour I spend doing proprietary development is an hour not spent on free development, and I think that free software is important for a number of critical reasons. So I don’t work with a client who won’t agree that all custom work be releasable (at least in theory) under a free license.

I’ve been freelancing full time for about two years. During that time, I’ve managed to take on a growing number of increasingly large projects. Through the same period, due to the patronage model, I’ve largely maintained – or even increased – the amount of time spent contributing to free software projects (even as my free time has been dominated by marriage and fatherhood!). More money in my pocket, and more free software for community use. Truly a win-win.

Not everyone will have my good fortune to be able to stick to such a strategy. I’m lucky to be offered far more work than I could possibly accept, which means I can turn down the stuff I don’t want, in accordance with the rules listed above. And I’m fortunate to be well known and well respected in my field. But it should be noted that my good fortune is not a coincidence. The more of your time you can devote to public work in free software – whether that work is as a hobbyist or as a patron-sponsored freelancer – the more well known you’ll become in the community, which will result in more job offers and more leverage with potential clients. It’s a virtuous circle that takes some courage to break into, but ends up being beneficial to everyone if you’re successful at it.

Small-scale patronage and the future of free software

Just as important as the benefits that the patronage model has brought to my own career is what it says about the future of free software development. Software like WordPress will never be commercially supported like Windows, where development is funded by the license fees of millions of users. For major development on free software projects, it’ll always be incumbent on a few generous patrons to provide resources. But there are dangers in overcentralized patronage: if, say, Automattic decided to abandon its committment to the WordPress project, a huge percentage of dev resources would suddenly dry up. The contractor-patronage model I’ve described here is a way of increasing the number of patrons, while lowering the financial bar for patronage – organizations can contribute in a meaningful way with just a few thousand dollars. Adopted widely, this promises to be a more secure foundation for ongoing free software development.

Sowing the seeds

Today I devoted an unusually large amount of time doing free user support for BuddyPress and WordPress (in IRC, over email, through some Trac tickets, and on WordPress StackExchange, the latter of which I’ve been experimenting with for the first time, and I find pretty cool). I say “unusually large” because while I used to do a lot of this sort of thing, it now falls to the bottom of my list of priorities – I do paid work, and when I’m not doing that I do free software development, and when I’m not doing that I try to get the hell away from my computer. As one of the leaders of the BuddyPress project, I usually justify this balance to myself by saying: There are lots of people who can provide user support for this software as well as I can, but there are few who can do productive development for it like I can, so my time is better spent developing. Generally, I think this is a pretty good argument. But I’m glad that days like today come along occasionally, because they remind me of some basic things about the nature of the community around a piece of free software that you can forget when your head is buried too deep in the codebase.

As an aside, I should note that I use the word ‘community’ in a measured way. The word is often overapplied, as if calling a bunch of people working on similar things “the WordPress community” or “the Digital Humanities community” or “the CUNY community” will, in a feat of performative metamorphosis (like how the Queen’s saying “I dub thee Sir Boone” would ipso facto make me a knight), bring into being the thing it purports to describe. Terminological misgivings to one side, there is an undeniable sense in which the work that we do – and by “we” here I mean specifically free software developers, though the point is quite a bit more general than that – is done in a community, or at least (more formally) a network, insofar as those who work on a common piece of free software never really work in isolation from one another. The development process that underlies these software projects depends on the existence of feedback loops, from the end user to the administrator of the installation to the community leaders to the developers themselves, in the form of bug reports, software patches, feature suggestions, support requests, blog posts, and so on.

These feedback loops are not unique to free software development; they’re not even unique to software. But in free software circles the loops are perhaps uniquely malleable, and the distinctions between user and developer uniquely permeable. Each user is a potential contributor, be it through code or advocacy. But the potential is not realized automatically. It’s obvious enough that users who hate using the software and developers whose patches are ignored will never become part of the community. More interesting is the case where a newbie approaches the community with enthusiasm and skill, but where their offerings are not nurtured and so never become real contributions.

I think this happens more than we would care to admit, and I am happy to take my share of the blame. As a developer, I become emotionally attached to the project, and as a result I sometimes interpret criticism as a personal attack. The parts of development that are least exciting – hunting down and fixing the obscure bugs that affect only a small number of users but, for those users, are ruinous – these make me defensive and sometimes angry, as they take my attention away from the more generative work I’d rather be doing. I value my time so highly that I occasionally get annoyed when someone requests some of that time to answer a “simple” question. In each instance, my attitude as a developer and leader of the project could have the effect of chilling what might otherwise have been a fruitful engagement.

Taking the time to do some “support” is the ideal way to fight these tendencies. People ask questions about the software, contribute patches, suggest improvements, etc, because they like the software and want to use it. These people are friends of the project, and should not be treated as enemies. Taking the time to work directly with users is a way of closing the feedback circuit, of sowing the seeds of future collaboration and contribution. If one out of five people recommends the software to someone else, and one out of a hundred contributes back to the software in the form of documentation or code or advocacy, that’s fruitful enough to make the engagement worthwhile.

2011

A bunch of stuff happened in 2011.

Like 2010, 2011 was a year of transitions for me: in my relationship with academia, in the way I earn a living, in the way I present myself as a citizen-builder of the internet. Being a parent is the biggest transition of all, forcing me to put into perspective the ways I spend my energy and the ways in which I define myself and what has value to me. (This transition has been overwhelmingly a Good Thing.) Continuing to strive for the right balance in these areas will, I’m sure, be a hallmark of my 2012. (Thankfully, I have no plans to have a child or get married in 2012. A man needs a year off from major life events!)

Happy new year!