Revisit: Observing in NYC: Part II
I forgot that there was a second part to my previous TECH post!
September 22nd, 2007 in “the TECH of Jen Grier”:
Tom and I returned to Whole Foods for a second round of observation. We wanted to look into viable options for improving the system already in place for checking-out.
What I realized that was not readily apparent before:
- There are two sides! The express-lane side has five lanes while the regular checkout lane side only has four.
- The “regular speed” side was much more patient and calm. They also seemed to understand the system much better, and were generally a bit more oriented than their express counterparts.
- I was able to sneak an overhead video of the express lane! It’s a little horrible, but perhaps it’ll give some additional perspective.
I observed both this past Thursday. You can see my results for that day on GoogleDocs.
My statistical summary of both days follows:
Average Confidence Level: 2.147
People who looked at the hanging LCD: 85/109 (78.0%)
People who looked at the sign with information on the register locations: 2/89 (2.25%)
People who looked to a staffperson for help: 35/89 (39.33%)
People who looked at the blinking register lights: 45/109 (41.28%)
Was the person disoriented with the location of the register?: 43/109 (29.45%)
Did the staff person ask the customer to take their turn?: 14/52 (26.92%)Tom summed it up in this PDF. Some height adjustments and better use of the LCD and colors were big on our list, along with better directions for customers to the registers.
Overall, this study reminded me that even the most fabulous technology doesn’t amount to much without serious design study. I’m glad we had a chance to check this place out!
Revisit: Working in Silence
Not long ago, I was as soldering lackey at ITP for a semester. Talk about a fight for silence!
Today, by comparison, will be spent in a rural stretch of land where my apartment is. Occasionally, I will hear a car pass by on the road. One of my neighbors told me that the traffic on the road was “ghastly and loud,” that living near it was nearly “unbearable.” I had to pause, because this place has been one of the most peaceful places I have ever lived. We are a few hundred feet from one another, I’d wager.
There are times when I miss Japan for reasons like these. The kind of respect that people would have for strangers – for each other – was so high. It was communicated daily in those morning commutes, even when the A/C didn’t work in the subway cars. Regardless, you needed to respect those around you by moving little and making no sound or unnecessary gestures so everyone would keep cool in a difficult situation. That is humanity, to me, or maybe the essence of human collectives. Feeling that conformity for the greater good was both sublimating and fascinating.
October 22nd, 2007 in “Silence Theory”:
An intriguing topic came up in my Digital Audio Processing class at NYU: by listening to music while you study, it forces what you are reviewing to enter a different part of your memory. What you learn can be recalled easily, but you cannot interact with it deeply because of the multiprocessing of learning and, in a sense, ignoring the music around you.Interesting.
I tried doing 60 pages or so of reading yesterday for classes that needed to be internalized more than memorized. I did this in silence. By the time I finished, I found myself desperately craving sound, music, and change. However, I can definitely say that what I read is well inside my brain.
The key is balance, I believe. If you force yourself to encounter too many sensations at once, consciousness dictates that some information will be absorbed and the rest will have to subside. By trying to read deeply, you desensitize yourself to the background music…
The other day, I was working in the NYU: ITP fabrication shop on a midterm project. During the course of the evening, the hum of the shop and clatter of people created nearly unworkable conditions. I put in strong earplugs and, to my surprise, found them entirely ineffective. The speech of people was too impulsive – too much articulation – and that could not be numbed enough by my devices. I gave up the moment and left until less intrusive conditions resumed.
The respect of space, in such confined arenas, seems totally lost. When I traveled by train and subway in Japan, the unspoken law of quiet and spatial respect nearly deafened my preexisting Western cultural norms. I was instantly subdued to the group acceptance of these two rules by the sheer encompass of them. Somehow, we do not communicate the same understanding or observation of strong, positive social suggestions by ourselves: we need libraries or other declared quiet spaces for that purpose. The struggle of one soldering student, it seems, does not even tip a balance to the casual many.
Are we hardwiring ourselves to be ignorant of undesired sound scapes?
Are we losing sensitivity to the natural consciousness of our sound environment?
Would a good teaspoon of silence each day regain an awareness of what we are forced to miss?
I’m glad to resuscitate these older thoughts from a grave in a PHP database. It just didn’t seem right to copy/paste them into the Multiblog without some background and reflection.
Revisit: Why Canst Thou Save Thine Game?
Sometimes, my ire gets the best of me. I’m still frustrated by this problem despite the two years or so that have passed since then.
February 29th, 2008 on “Interaction Faction”:
I own a DS Lite. It’s a great little portable system, with tons of cool titles like Contact and New Super Mario Bros., yet there is a fundamental problem with many of these games.
Why, good people, am I unable to SAVE at any point in the game on a PORTABLE device?
What developer has the nerve to overlook this seemingly necessary feature of a gaming environment in which power off can occur at notably unexpected times? Where shorter play time is inherent to one’s commute?
Please don’t get me wrong – I can take a good Wario Ware fix like the next gamer, but is that my only option?
Let’s look at a fairly complex game with, absolutely, the ability to save at nearly any point: Final Fantasy Tactics Advance. Any turn in which you had character control, you could immediately save and power down, no questions asked, and arrive at the very same place in battle. Did I mention that saving is always possible outside of battle as well?
The leads me, naturally, to approach the DS as another system more likely to stay home than travel for fear that I play on my weekly commute, get through a small, yet worthwhile chunk of game, but find myself unable to save when I must depart and re-engage the world we live in. Futility at its finest.
Game developers, I beg you, PLEASE implement a save function at any time. Yes, I’ll leave out cutscenes if you throw it on every non-battle menu. We can even negotiate what time of battle engagement, if you like. For other genres, this is not yet standard!
Raise your portable system of choice high! Fight to save your game whenever you feel empowered to!
Revisit: Observing in NYC: TECH is everywhere.
While attending NYU, I had to keep a blog for the Physical Computing class I attending at Tisch: ITP (Interactive Telecommunications Program). Essentially, if you wanted to take any other class in the department, you had to start with this one. Although my final project flopped, I learned a whole lot about electronics and that soldering irons are my friends.
This post was for an assignment with a classmate; we were studying the behaviors of people with technology in the wild before offering up some design critiques and improvements.
From September 17th, 2007 in “the TECH of Jen Grier”:
TECH on the Road:
On my way to the city this morning, I picked up a discount pack of tickets for the Hudson-Bergen Lightrail from one of their [damned] vending computers. The touch screen is awful to see almost all of the time, and the buttons often don’t work on the number pad, forcing me to use cash instead of my debit card. (I only saw 3 other people purchase tickets as a I waited to the train. They used cash, too, and were often squinting at the screen. 9:15AM)
I jumped on the LightRail itself, which is a fabulous convenience of transportation, and without it makes my commute very expensive. (There were at least 10 people on my car, but it fluctuated often and people were moving about. 9:25AM)
I noticed the over-abundance of businessmen hunched over PDAs on the train (2 people at about 9:45AM), poking at touch-sensitive windows into their sheduled lives with a pinprick of a stylus. I never understood why something so small was intended for a demographic with large-ish hands
When I transferred to the PATH going to 33rd St, I charged up my MetroCard using my debit card. (At least 10 people used these machines within the few minutes I was there. They were doing a variety of purchases and refills, some restarting because the machine didn’t understand the order while others gracefully filled their card with ease.) More people than I could keep track of swiped their cards to get through the turnstile, but every one out of 20, I’d say, was a confused traveler who needed a moment to understand what was needed and what to buy (with gigantic luggage in tow).
On the PATH, there were music players everywhere. I wonder if I notice it more when I forget mine at home. I saw at least 15, a handful of which had the signature iPod earbuds. I brought my first-generation Shuffle with me today, too, and it immediately lessened the monotony of the trip.
When I got off the PATH at 9th St., I saw at least forty cellphone-gabbing power walkers as I approached Broadway. I’m still caught off-guard by people walking by without carrying a mobile phone: I don’t see the Bluetooth headset and I end up thinking they are talking to themselves in a crazy fashion.
Going home from my observation with Tom, I picked up a cheap pair of sandals on E 14th, and there was a cash register present to ring up my sale of exactly $5. Back in Jersey City, the big thing is to use the walkie-talkie function that some cell phones had, not unlike speakerphone. I suppose it’s easier than cradling it next to your ear on your shoulder all the time, but it seems strange to open your conversation to the public as you’re walking down the street. I only saw one person doing this today, but I see about 10 on average when I don’t have a commuting-to-NYC school day.
IN DEPTH:
I’m working with Tom on this project. We’re checking out the check-out at Whole Foods Market on E 14th St. and Broadway, up by Union Square. Their express check-out system was unlike anything I had seen before: think 5 lines, each with a color. A large LCD display at the head of the line shows five bands of color, and rolls a number down on each band periodically. That number is the register destination of the first customer in that color’s line: you see the number, go to the register, and check out. A loudspeaker reinforced the number of the next free register. This system is meant to handle a large volume of customers. However, we found that they had a staff member babysitting the front of the lines, often telling bewildered customers where to go or that it’s their turn to leave. He also ended mitigating disputes between customers who walked through without understanding the system, angering those who were still waiting.
Here’s our data so far on GoogleDocs. Some of my more detailed notes follow:
- Many people weren’t accustomed to the height of the LCD for information.
- Some customers were upset to find themselves waiting in line while a free register (denoted by a blinking light at that register) opened up, regardless of whether another customer was traveling to that register or not. The assumption, at a glance, was that the system was ineffective, and therefore a waste of time.
- The sound source of the loudspeaker was mounted high on a wall post to the right, not in the direction of the LCD. Most customers didn’t seem to acknowledge the messages it gave.
- The color/number system passes over the language barrier.
- Some people blazed through the lines to a free register with a blinking light, altogether bypassing other customers and the wait system.
Revisit: The First Step Into Silence
One of my more interesting writing experiments, Silence Theory, began shortly after I moved to Jersey City, then for an affordable life while attending school in the Village. This was the first post, written about 2.5 years ago. It seems so long ago, but I feel like I still have so much to think about in this area.
October 7th, 2007 in “Silence Theory”:
I’ve begun this blog in an effort to explore a phenomenon. Perhaps this is more personal than universal. If you’ve found me, I hope you find interest here.
This began with a load of laundry.
Laundromats, as you may be aware, are generally mechanism-filled spaces of suds and socks. The audible pangs of the washer to the creaks of every drier can make the visit a session in audio pollution very, very quickly.
What I did to change that was wear a set of earplugs for the session – a serendipitous find in my bag – and took note of the immediate calm I found myself in. The machines became more of a distant, indiscernible cloud… my tactile sense kicked up with the rumbles of rotation. I enjoyed the distance between myself and the conversations in the room, which were beyond my business, you know?
Entranced by this effect, I tried it again on the LightRail, traveling from my downtown apartment in Jersey City to Hoboken. A nearby toddler began to voice his upset with Thomas the Tank Engine when the plugs went in, and I was blissfully in my own, yet shared space. Again, there was the lack of machinery (moving trains tend to squeal and gurgle) and a deadening of all frequencies, making the space seem less aggravated, less uninvitational.
On the PATH, there was a similar feeling of disconnect. In a more dense space, there was less sense of selfness, but I was even more grateful for the separation between my ears and the metal grinding of the PATH. (If you’ve been, you know the shrieks of the track, high-pitched and obtrusive.)
These were all instances of silence and my own stillness, however. As I walked from the PATH station to school, I found that the earplugs themselves increased my sense of “inner sounds”, such as my breath and footstep reverberations. I could also feel my pulse within my head, which was alarming until I realized that it was, really, just my own, and it’s been happening without my notice for many years now. Initially, I had reservations about wearing the plugs in the city – would be too unaware of my surroundings that my safety would be forfeit? Somehow, that was not the case. Over the day, I had adjusted to my senses of touch and sight to accommodate for the “loss” of outer hearing, and I feel that I was acceptably attenuated to the new perception recipe I was stirring. The other aspect of ear plugs is that, although many high frequencies feel rolled-off, the impacts of normal and loud sounds generally do make it through. If I am in the city and a car approaches, for example, I can hear it and be aware, but it is a softer, round sound when it gets to me. I have the suddenness without the aggression.
I am interested in a less invasive sound experience while in the city and elsewhere. Perhaps further study will awaken the truths behind what we hear, our choices, and the outcome of our daily experiences.
*Disclaimer: I don’t recommend wearing earplugs for long amounts of time unless they are manufactured for that purpose. It can, in the least, be uncomfortable, but poor plugs inserted improperly run the risk of hurting your ears. Be safe, check things out on the packaging or look them up on the Web before delving into your own sound space experiments.
Rebirth, to Death, to Rebirth
For the next few days, I’d like to spend a moment each day rehashing a post from one of my original blogs before they all evolved into my shiny Multiblog. Today’s is from almost two years ago, back when I was still completing my graduate studies at NYU. I had started “Interaction Faction” as a means for venting my game development and design snafus, which were daily at the time. I was also angrier/more emotional about programming back then, probably because my thesis was my first serious coding project.
From May 8th, 2008, on “Interaction Faction”:
Taking a moment from my critique of game design, in an hour of desperation I offer to you my ray of hope through this epic retelling of adversity.
Death. All I could think about was how to throw my shiny UT3 collector’s box around my apartment, as the editor, just days before a presentation of a project, would not allow me to look at the properties of my builder brushes. Oh, the window would show, but you know those delicious dark gray sub-boxes? They remained unopenable, shut like a nun’s panties. Crawling around the UT3 forums proved futile until one post, one booming voice echoing:
“When judgment is at hand, delete the UTEditor.ini in the UTGAME\Config files in your Documents folder, for the righteous shall be saved.”
Well, I wasn’t saved yet – it didn’t work. HOWEVER, deleting UTEditor.ini along with its cohorts UTEditorUserSettings.ini and UTEditorKeyBindings.ini was successful. The editor was restored to harmony and joyous modding.
I hope this solution also helps those with unreasonably skewed brushes and other varieties of bizarre parameters that the editor saves for the following session… for your convenience!
Raleigh!
I blasted back from the conference on Thursday, but I’ve been in nonstop catch-up-and-connect-with-new-folks mode since I got back. Let me just say this: TGC was a GREAT experience for me, and I can’t wait for next year’s conference to roll around! I’m also thinking of going to the game conference in Atlanta in October (SIEGE), which promises to be equally, if not more, awesome.
I was originally turned off to Atlanta after visiting the Georgia Aquarium on a Sunday (around Valentine’s Day, if you must know). We drove around to check the area out, but it seemed, well, dead. If you lived/played in Greenwich Village for a few years, like I did, you kind of have an expectation of what a “real” city is supposed to be like. Walking through Washington Square Park, hearing who was jamming before I stepped into an over-crowded studio/classroom for some music tech lecture or whatnot… that was my life for two years. It was also the best part of my commute into the city from Jersey City. Anyway, we must’ve been cruising through Atlanta’s financial district or something, but we couldn’t find where the hip kids were at. Maybe it’s more of a commuter city? I was creeped out by the lack of people walking around on a fairly sunny day, but maybe it’s just not that kind of scene. I don’t know. I’m still bugging my Atlanta-prone friends about where I should’ve been exploring.
The real push to attend TGC, aside from networking in the game industry I call my “home”, was to check out Raleigh. For better or worse, I know that I need to think about where I should relocate at the end of the year. Not that Spartanburg has done me wrong, particularly, but I know that my options have been extremely limited, even as a technologist, and that telecommuting for most of my work has been an eye-opener into what I value about work. Some of it doesn’t need an office (getting to know people), but some… well, maybe some does. (You know that chit-chat when you just get in, or those conversations over lunch where you discover that your cubicle mate has the same breed of cat that you do? I don’t have those serendipitous face-to-face moments. Ever. It’s always a voice or an asynchronous exchange.) This isn’t just a matter of telecommuting, but probably a facet of being a contractor – your time is always billed, and who wants to get billed for chit-chat? You’re more of a cog in a machine than a member of the work family, which is something I miss about studio life. However, I have seen consultants in I.T. become part of the teams that are also their clients. Perhaps it’s a matter of culture, but I’m sure that seeing my bright, cheery, I-totally-love-working-in-games-even-doing-this-boring-task-How-are-you-today face would be a positive asset if face-to-face contact was more common.
Anyway, there’s no guarantee that I would gain any of this by relocating. More and more studios rely on telecommuters to keep overhead/office expenses down, so it may just be a sign of the times that so much of my work has come through that venue.
The other half of it, aside from “career positioning” or what have you, is the area. I lived in Sussex, NJ, where there were cows. Some people (non-NJ natives) still don’t believe there were cows, or that I didn’t immediately know what “exit I was off of the Turnpike.” That one is so old. Please, give it a rest. I lived in Pennsylvania for my undergrad (small school) and Jersey City with a commute into Manhattan for graduate studies (NYU… big school). Despite living in so many different places, I’m just not sure where I belong.
I really enjoyed my time in Raleigh, though. So clean, so friendly… I was just surprised. Oh, and those parks throughout the city! And trees! There’s a lot I haven’t touched on yet, so I’m planning a return trip in a few months to see if it’s where I should settle, perhaps for more than a year or two! I’ve been a nomad for the past bunch of years. I hope to change that. Maybe I’ll figure this out before my lease on this apartment ends!
I’ll be in… THE TRIANGLE.
It’s totally true! Next week, I’ll be at the Triangle Game Conference in Raleigh, NC! (April 7-8) I’m hoping to meet with studio folk to see what’s shakin’. It should be lots of fun!
Therefore, I’ve been looking up tips on networking and conferencing. I don’t know many folks in North Carolina yet, but I hope to change that soon. I’ve been listening to an interesting podcast on approaching groups at Manager Tools. I’m still pretty awkward at conferences, but I hope this will better my odds of being less shy/more sure of myself.
I’ll be late for the first day, but I’ll be there both days! If you plan on attending, feel free to send me an e-mail so we can meet up!
A Previous Life
I just remembered a very, very awesome trip I had a few years ago in the ancient, mystical, tech-savvy country of Japan.
If you’re curious about my adventures, you can still read about them! It’s strange for me to read this old travel log now, as there are so many things that would have been less surprising if my first trip had been done when I was older.
Enjoy!
http://jen-in-japan.blogspot.com/
New Beginnings!
I’ve got lots of new things cooking on the backburner, but not much I can share… yet! I’m hoping to have something new (either virtual or physical) completed soon.
However, I know the need for immediate satisfaction is among us! Therefore, I’m taking a risk. I have created a Forumspring account. Yes, you can now ask me any question you want anonymously. I’m a little scared about what may come up, but I’ll do my best to make sure the most interesting questions are answered first.
Let’s give it a go!
