I don’t own an iPhone. Don’t plan to for a while. The reason is simple economics—my needs don’t outweigh the substantial costs involved. And its not just monetary costs; e.g. I’m not sure I’m ready for a piece of flatware as a phone. My current phone is a PEBL, which is bulkier, but which bulk I actually appreciate, as it makes it easier to feel vibrations when the phone rings. And call me crazy, but right now I need my phone to be a phone and my iPod to be an iPod. I’m not yet at the place where constant access to the mobile web significantly improves my life.

But this post isn’t about that. Because while I don’t want an iPhone, I still very much lust after it. I’ve played with it several times, and my jaw is no less agape, nor my legs no less weak, as every other fanboy out there. After absorbing the experience for a while, I tried to put a finger on what, exactly, made it so fucking incredible. It didn’t take long to find the word to fit that bill: Futuristic.

I’m not the only one who thinks so. Use it yourself and you’ll feel the same way. Something about this association fascinated me. What does it mean when we use that word?

Something that’s always bothered me about most movies set in the distant future is that they’re often shown in a utopian state, where nothing is broken, or under construction, or dirty at all. All the problems of the world have been solved through handy inventions or simple laws that everyone seems perfectly content to follow. The world, obviously, won’t ever be like that. We’re always moving forward and making progress, and progress is messy. Things go wrong. New inventions are always needed. It’s nice to think that we’ll get it all fixed up someday, until you realize the implications therein are quite horrifying. Messiness is natural.

I think it’s this same idyllic vision invoked by screenwriters that the rest of us call on when we use the word “futuristic.” Things from the future, they just … work. They know the answers before you ask the question. They’re sexy, and clean, and could step in as your best friend if the current titleholder starts to act up. This is what the iPhone is. It feels futuristic not only because it does 300 things other phones don’t, but because it does it so (and I mean SO) seamlessly. Cell phone experiences have forever been consumed in misery and pain. Use an iPhone, and it becomes radically intuitive how to get done what it is you want done.

The irony in labeling something futuristic is that it never can be. It, along with everything else, exists in the now; if something like it came about in the future, it’d be branded as old news. For now, the iPhone leads the way—by a large gap—toward the new status quo for mobile phone experiences. Eventually, when other manufacturers catch up with the iPhone’s myriad innovations, what once was futuristic will suddenly be the norm, and the future will again be up for grabs. Such is progress.

When it came time to pack the camera for Austin, I paused. SXSW is clearly one of the most documented events of its kind, with all those gadget freaks and camera junkies running around, especially when you consider it on a shots-per-person basis. (And even more especially when you consider it on a camera-per-person basis.) Why did I need to add my efforts to the mix? There were a number of scenes of photographic gluttony during last year’s conference that were a hair’s breadth away from making me want to check into digital rehab. I was certain that come this year, any event that I wanted memorialized would be captured by someone else, and easily accessible via the web.

But there was another reason, too. A common lament from the fogies is that we yutes can’t experience anything these days if not through the prism of an LCD screen. Though I find this to be little more than crotchety fist-wagging, I am just as guilty as the next addict, so I wanted to see what it was like to change gears and leave the camera at home.

I gotta say, it wasn’t easy. My instinct to grab a camera at the first sign of interest has worn a deep path in my muscle memory. But after a few days of resistance, I started to ease up and actually enjoy the freedom of just … watching. It was strangely comfortable. I felt the lifting of a special kind of anxiety, and by giving myself permission to watch without capture, I was this much closer to achieving the Zen spot of social interaction.

The interesting thing is, I’m not sure I’d do it again. What I realized, after I got home, is that we often shoot photos to remember them later on, but the real purpose is, well, to paraphrase Coudal’s grandfather: I shoot photographs to remember them now.

It’s the act itself that makes the impression on the brain. Okay, it’s the act, plus the immediate analysis, and the upload to flickr, and the days of subsequent review to see who’s commented on them. And while that can be a bit much sometimes, I’m certain it enhances the overall experience, at least from the vantage point of the future me, looking back.

I immediately felt the lack of that element when I got home from SXSW this year. Sure, I could look up thousands of other people’s photos of the same event, but not a single one have a connection to my memories. It’s not that I want photographs to serve as a replacement of memory; I want them there as a hook for a way in. My brain’s got a lot of stuff in it. Until I commit myself to a monkish life of unpossession, I’m not ashamed to admit I need some help accessing stuff once it’s buried in there.

“Pick your clients. There’s tons of work out there.”

I’m going to tell you this is true, and you’re probably not going to believe me. Especially if you’re not working for yourself. I heard this a year ago, too, but it gave me no extra comfort when it came time to quit my job and go out on my own. But it’s true, and it’s amazing.

Practically to a person, whenever I told people I was going freelance, they’d first say congratulations, then they’d follow it up with, “I know someone who needs a website. I’ll pass your name on.” Not all of them panned out—in fact, most petered out—but enough of them did that I could hit the ground running when I finally started up.

I feel I’ve been really lucky in that it’s kept up since then. I’ve not had to put out solicitations for work, or scour the Craigslist ads or gig boards for my next job. The work keeps coming from the blessed land of word-of-mouth. I don’t expect it to last forever, but I’ll take it as long as I can.

So what I’m trying to say is, jump in, there’s enough water to keep everyone afloat.

“There are other typefaces available on most computers.”

I remember when I first noticed this trick. It hadn’t occurred to me to include typefaces in the CSS other than the ones guaranteed to be on everyone’s machine. Then I stumbled across a website set entirely in Comic Sans. After I staunched the sudden flow of blood erupting from my eyeballs, I brought up the code to marvel at what they’d done.

So it’s a neat trick, but I’m still wary to do it. I’m even wary to put a site in Lucida Sans, which is standard on all Macs but nonexistent on PCs. For the simple reason that you’ve got to test every page twice. If a page is going to appear radically different on a good subset of your audience, you better make sure you know exactly how it’ll look and that it passes muster. Most of the time, it’s not worth it to go to all that extra work just to use Goudy instead of Georgia.

“Write content to be read by people, not search”

Ye, if I could only get the clients to believe it. This has been one of my biggest lessons so far: even though I feel I know what’s best for a client and their site, and even though they’re paying me to provide this service for them, there’s no guarantee they’re going to listen. And I suppose, if I were in their shoes, I’d do the same thing.

It means I’ve got to be prepared. It means that, despite its stranglehold on the title of Most Tedious Aspect of Web Development, I’ve got to attend panels on SEO and read articles on the latest trends. When the topic comes up, I need be able to lay down some Knowledge and nip it in the bud, before we’re suddenly overrun with hacks and shortcuts for a Better Google Ranking Now!

Dear clients: I know you mean well. I want you to succeed as well. Trust Ms. Mecham, whose a pro at this stuff. The best way to a higher ranking is a path paved with good content and satisfied readers.

“Once you have enough users to provide enough income, you spend your whole day writing support email.”

Or, “Earning your living from a successful web app is not all Wii and roses, you naive schmuck.”

Now watch as I don’t pay attention and consider doing it anyway.

“Just start writing”

The irony is that I can’t figure out how to start this off. I guess the answer is, if all else fails, go for self-reflection.

This is my main struggle with writing. I’m a persistant persistent editor, a constant tinkerer, a incessant perfectionist, so it takes me forever to formulate a paragraph. In the words of Barry Schwartz, I’m a maximizer, not a satisficer, so if something can be improved, I’ll try to improve it. This seriously hinders my ablity to put text to page. Unless I feel that I’ve got a plan for how the words will form a coherent story, I’m wary to start.

This is actually true of a lot of endeavors for me. I have a difficult time starting any kind of project if I don’t know the overall plan. (Ethan Marcotte also said, at this panel, “the truest form of terror is a blank Photoshop document”. Amen.) Erin’s point is worth remembering; I think I need to paste it up above my monitor.

“Be a Design Vigilante”

This nugget sums up the talk, and really most of SXSW, for me. Find the time to do something cool. Rob, along with Jason Santa Maria, spent the hour talking about ways they get inspired, and more importantly, outlets they have for all that inspiration. Creativity begets creativity. It reminded me of the few totally unnecessary creative projects Sarah and I have done over the last couple years—namely the clue hunt—and how exciting it was for us to flex that creativity.

Sometimes—er, often—I find myself putting off projects because I don’t feel I have the time. But I’m just starting this endeavor. The fact is, if things go well, this is the least busy I’m going to be for a while. This is the time I need to seize on any sliver of unbillability and do something cool.

Unbillability. Sounds like a ragtime band made up of high-priced consultants.

I’ve been hanging out a bit with my designer friend Neil. He’s applying for grad school and wanted to practice the interview by walking me through his portfolio. I was stunned by how much of his work is personal pet projects he’s done for friends or his girlfriend. A moment’s thought reveals why: no boss or client to answer to. Creative freedom. From these exercises, he can stretch his legs and grow as a designer.

“Use the grid, but be flexible.”

In other words, embrace constraints, but don’t let them get you down.

I just realized the name of Khoi’s panel is a play on the Gordon Gecko quote. I’m suddenly looking forward to his 2008 talk, “Give ‘em Helvetica, Harry!”

“Forget the notion that technology should adapt to people. It should be vice versa.”

An argument evolved in this panel between practitioners of the persona-based user research vs. activity-based user research. Actually it was more of a pile-on by the activity camp, to which all of the panelists belonged. They practically dared any persona fans to come to the mike and defend their precious cause. I think one guy did, but kind of apologetically, then passed the buck to his higher-ups.

It all made me scratch my head. I ain’t got no degree in Interaction Design, but I’ve picked up a few things over the years from some of the smarter people I’ve worked with. No matter what you call it, the gist is the same: determine what your users want to do, and make it as easy as possible for them to do it. Everything else stems from there.

Somedays I wonder if I should go back to design school and get a formal education about all the stuff I’ve learned in passing over the years. If it’ll consist of learning a half-dozen new ways to say the same old thing, I think I’ll save my time.

“Maybe we should all work in our pajamas”

I’ve written about this one a little bit already. It was my favorite talk at this year’s conference. The line above was in reference to an Edgar Allen Poe quote:

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

My problem is not giving myself time to dream—my mind wanders plenty—but rather feeling guilty about it when I do. What I need is some time that I’ve put aside for daydreaming. Which leads me to…

“Plan your work and work your plan”

It’s easy for me to look at my master to-do list and get overwhelmed. It’s also easy to forget that that list will never ever be empty. Should never be empty. If it’s ever empty, either something’s gone horribly wrong, or I’ve retired.

In the meanwhile, I need to stop making that to-do list the first place I look anytime I find some free time. Just because I have things to do, doesn’t mean their always the most urgent. Also important is finding time to daydream (see above), do those non-billable projects (see higher above), and whatever else it takes to make my business grow.

Getting a toehold into this new way of thinking is possibly the most difficult step. Last week, I took a stab at it by making up an hour-by-hour schedule for 8 AM – 6 PM of every day, plus a little extra in the evening and weekends. The crucial point here is that each day has some fun time built in, time I wouldn’t get to otherwise, and I think I’ll be better for it. It’s a little crazy, I know, but OCD wasn’t designed for the sane.

“Let email accumulate”

Mr. Ferriss reeked of smugness—a higher caliber smugness than you normally find in the SXSW halls—so I couldn’t stand his presentation sales pitch for too long. However, I did come away with this gem.

I know that email can be a time-suck, but it never occurred to me to just… turn it off. Now I check it in the morning, shut it down and check it mid-day, and shut it down again until about 4. After just one day of doing this, it’s easy to realize how non-urgent most emails are. I now do most of my email in big batches at the end of the day, and it feels ten times healthier.

That’s enough for one post. More to come in part two.