Jim Naylor

I've managed a few teams in my time (cue crotchety old man music), and have accrued some insights that can help your design team run (semi) smoothly.

That being said, some of these recommendations are applicable to all types of teams, and I list them for the sake of completeness.

Have Shared Vision and Direction

Have a mission statement and a set of principles the team can follow, and make sure everything is pragmatic and achievable. If you pump your team up with lofty aspirations and blue-sky visions they will quickly become demotivated when the hard fist of reality shatters those dreams.

Set a Rigid but Flexible Process

Set a standard design process based on best...read more
By Joseph Dickerson

In 1910, two explorers began their quests to become the first men to ever set foot upon the southernmost point on earth.

It was the “Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration,” and the South Pole represented one of the last unexplored areas on earth. Robert Falcon Scott hoped to claim the bottom of the world for England; Roald Amundsen wished to plant the Norwegian flag there on behalf of his countrymen.

Despite their common goal, the two adventurers’ approaches to their expeditions were quite different—as were the end results. Amundsen reached the South Pole first and returned home on a trip that was relatively smooth and straightforward. Scott arrived at 90 Degrees South only to experience the crushing disappointment of seeing one of Amundsen’s flags flapping in the wind. He would never make it back; he and his four companions died of starvation, exhaustion, and exposure as they attempted to make the 700 mile return trip to their base camp.

Some have painted the differences between the men and their respective expeditions too simplistically: Amundsen as the brilliant leader, Scott as an utterly incompetent boob. In truth, both men had strengths and flaws, and both men made mistakes. And there is much merit in a struggle, even if it ends in tragedy (see the story of Nick Piantanida), and I personally greatly admire Scott’s courage and character and his stoicism when facing death.

The outcome of any endeavor is decided by the weights of a scale–on one side lies fate/risk/circumstance and on the other, preparations/tactics/heart. The adventurer cannot know exactly how much will be loaded on the luck side of the scale when he sets out, but he can overload the other side as much as possible, in hopes of tipping the chances in his favor. This is what Amundsen did, and how he did it reveals a number of strikingly clear insights into how we too can reach our goals.

Pioneer Your Own Path

Scott patterned much of his trek after the Nimrod expedition Ernest Shackleton had undertaken in 1907, in which he had come within 112 miles of reaching the Pole (but had also nearly died of starvation on the way back). Scott chose to set up his base camp at McMurdo Sound, just as the Nimrod and Scott’s own previous Discovery expedition had done, and he followed the same route to the Pole Shackleton had taken. Scott carried a record of the Nimrod expedition throughout his own march and checked his progress every evening against that of his predecessor.

Amundsen, on the other hand, made his base camp at the Bay of Whales, setting up his winter quarters on the edge of the Great Ice Barrier. No explorer had camped at that spot previously, for it was feared that the ice could fracture and send you floating away on a berg. But Amundsen had studied the records of past explorers who had been in the area, and saw that their descriptions of the ice had remained unchanged for decades, which Amundsen believed pointed to the area’s stability. Amundsen felt that camping there was a risk worth taking, for it positioned his starting point 60 miles closer to the Pole than Scott’s, which meant a total savings of 120 miles round trip. From the Barrier, Amundsen pioneered a route no man had trod before, and he took the straightest path possible to the Pole, traveling along a line of longitude. He had no idea what kind of terrain he’d face en route to his goal, but he was prepared to go up and over it.

As Scott trudged to the Pole, he found reason to hope that he might arrive there first, for he saw no sledge tracks or footprints along the way, and he assumed Amundsen would be using the same established path. What he did not know was that the Norwegian was on an entirely different course 500 miles to the west and already hundreds of miles ahead.

Focus on One Goal at a Time

As you may remember from our discussion on willpower, picking one goal to focus on at a time is one of the most effective ways of conserving this vital inner fuel and ensuring you have enough energy and motivation to achieve your aim. Not only that, but psychologists tell us that when you work on more than one goal, and those goals conflict with each other, your willpower gets sapped even more.

Amundsen had one goal, and one goal only: to be the first to reach the South Pole.

Scott’s expedition, on the other hand, had dual purposes: to get to the Pole first and to gather scientific information about the Antarctic. These goals were at times in conflict; to reach the Pole first, time was of the essence, while scientific work and surveying required slowing down and making careful observations. At one point during Scott’s return trip from the Pole, he and his four companions had just five days of food left, with the next depot–a pre-laid cache of food and supplies–about five days away. The margin between the men and starvation was thin, and weather conditions were ideal for making up time, but Scott decided instead to stop and take geological samples–gathering 30 stones, adding 35 pounds to the sledges, and requiring 7-8 miles of work that did not get the team any closer to the life-saving food waiting at the next depot.

Scott’s desire to advance scientific knowledge was quite noble and very earnest, and the information and samples he gathered later proved to be useful to researchers. And that is of course what makes concentrating on one goal at a time so difficult; our other goals are worthy ones too, and we want to tackle everything at once; it’s hard to feel like you’re ignoring something that should be done. But it would have been better for Scott, and for us, to check off one thing before moving on to another; Scott was already planning on going out towards the Pole again once he returned from his first trip anyway; that trip could have focused exclusively on scientific work, leaving the initial expedition to be run purely as a race.

Amundsen’s only scientific work involved making and recording daily meteorological observations at his base camp. But he didn’t do any at night, which greatly diminished the value of even this small contribution. But Amundsen understood the importance of channeling all of one’s energy into a single aim, saying:

“Our plan is one, one and again one alone–to reach the pole. For that goal, I have decided to throw everything else aside. We shall do what we can without colliding with this plan. If we were to have a night watch, we would have a light burning the whole time. In one room, as we have, this would be worrying for most of us, and make us weak. What concerns me is that we all live properly in all respects during the winter. Sleep and eat well, so that we have full strength and are in good spirits when spring arrives to fight towards the goal which we must attain at any cost.”

Work Smarter, Not Harder

One of the biggest differences between the Scott and Amundsen expeditions were the forms of transportation each man chose for their journeys.

Scott gave himself four different options for transportation: ponies, dogs, motor sledges (primitive snowmobiles), and man-hauling. The motor sledges—which hadn’t been tested in Arctic-like conditions—quickly broke down. The ponies were ill-suited to the climate and the terrain—there’s no naturally growing vegetation to feed them, they sweat through their hides, which creates sheets of ice on their bodies, and with heavy torsos and slender legs, they sink deep into the snow with every step. Thus the ponies made slow and painful process and had to all be put down.

The dogs performed gamely, but Scott did not feel they were reliable or well-suited for the crevasse-pocked terrain he would be crossing, and he sent them back to camp once he had traveled halfway to the Pole. That left three-fourths of the journey there and back to be completed through man-hauling—getting into a harness and pulling 200 pound sledges, step by step (sometimes on skis), through the snow and ice for more than 1,000 miles and a rise of 10,000 feet.

This is what Shackleton had done on his expedition, and he and other British explorers believed that man-hauling was the best—and the most noble–way to go.

But among Nordic peoples, the advantages of using dogs as much as possible was clear. The wisdom in selecting dogs was confirmed to Amundsen during one of his previous expeditions, when he had stopped to learn as much about survival in Arctic conditions as possible from those who knew the landscape most intimately: the Inuit.

Dogs were low maintenance haulers—they could be fed a variety of foods (including each other), and they kept themselves warm by digging holes to crawl inside. They also made great companions—breaking up the morale-sapping monotony of trudging through freezing wind and bleak, faceless terrain with the same four other guys for 1500 miles. And of course they were quick and fast, scampering over the snow and taking the burden of hauling off the men; Scott often marched 9-10 hours a day, while Amundsen rarely went more than 5-6, and yet in that shorter amount of time, he would sometimes cover twice the ground Scott had. Finally, because dogs can travel in colder conditions, they can run both earlier and later in the summer season than ponies, allowing Amundsen to start for the Pole two weeks before Scott—a huge advantage.

For the British, man-hauling was a source of pride, a test of manhood—they liked the purity of it, the struggle between man and nature; Scott and his men actually looked forward to turning back the dogs and getting into the harnesses for the push to the Pole. Scott wrote:

“In my mind no journey ever made with dogs can approach the height of that fine conception which is realised when a party of men go forth to face hardships, dangers, and difficulties with their own unaided efforts…Surely in this case the conquest is more nobly and splendidly won.”

I do admire something of that attitude myself. But while all struggles require some effort and grit, the most painful way, does not always equal the best way.

Successful Men Make Their Own Luck, or Failing to Prepare is Preparing to Fail

“I may say that this is the greatest factor—the way in which the expedition is equipped—the way in which every difficulty is foreseen, and precautions taken for meeting or avoiding it. Victory awaits him who has everything in order — luck, people call it. Defeat is certain for him who has neglected to take the necessary precautions in time; this is called bad luck.” -Roald Amundsen

Preparation. This is where the rubber really hit the road for Amundsen and Scott.

It’s not that Scott didn’t prepare. He did. But he based his preparations on the conditions he had experienced on his previous Discovery expedition and on those reported during Shackleton’s Nimrod expedition. He didn’t count on Antarctica being unpredictable, and left only a thin margin for error, a small buffer against accident or inclement weather. He didn’t prepare for the worst. And yet that was what he ended up facing—freezing temperatures that only come around every couple of decades or so and powerful blizzards.

For his part, Amundsen left nothing to chance. He designed his own goggles, skis, dog harnesses, and pemmican. For the members of his team he chose men who were good with their hands, and as they waited out the winter at their base camp in preparation for the start of the expedition, Amundsen expected them to work 9-5, six days a week honing their equipment and clothing, and getting all their plans and gear shipshape.

The men made a series of tunnels and snow caves and turned them into what Amundsen called, “just one big workshop,” in which they crafted two pairs of custom skis for each man (one pair for back-up), modified the skis’ bindings to be more efficient, created better designed and lighter tents (Amundsen’s tents could be put up with one pole; Scott’s required five), lightened the sledges, and sewed their clothing and remade their boots four times until they fit perfectly and wouldn’t chafe.

All of Amundsen’s equipment was field-tested at base camp and refined again and again. Amundsen saw all this tinkering and crafting as having two invaluable benefits: 1) the gear turned out much better than those mass-produced, and 2) having had a hand in making it, the men were much more confident in how the gear would perform out on the march.

Scott’s men did refine their equipment somewhat during the winter, but spent a good deal of the time writing letters, playing sports, and attending evening lectures given by each other.

Amundsen brought the same attention to detail he had given his equipment to one of the most crucial parts of his preparation: the positioning of the depots on the way to and from the Pole. Because the men could not carry all the supplies and food they’d need for a 1500 mile journey on the sledges, depots were placed at intervals along the route before the actual expedition began. Amundsen had spent a year creating a depot-laying plan for the expedition, and still felt it had not been enough time. He laid out his depots with regularity, along each line of latitude, and packed them with ten times more food (and including 42,000 biscuits) than Scott’s. While Scott and his men died partially from starvation, Amundsen’s team actually gained weight on their return from the Pole.

Scott hatched his depot-laying plan once he landed at McMurdo Sound and gave his men just a week to divvy up the supplies and calculate how much to stash at each depot. The depots ended up containing enough food to sustain the men, but just barely. Man-hauling has been estimated to burn 7,000 calories a day, and even up to a 11,000 when pulling uphill. Yet each man’s rations provided just 4,500 calories a day, leaving them weakened and demoralized.

And since the depots contained just a little extra fuel and food beyond what the men would need if they arrived on schedule, even if the men needed rest or could not make much progress in the weather, they had to keep pushing on to make it to the next cache of supplies; they often arrived at each depot by the skin of their teeth, with only a half day of food and fuel left.

But perhaps Scott’s greatest depot-laying mistake concerned the placement of “One Ton Depot.” During the depot-laying march before the main expedition began, the furthest depot was supposed to be laid at the 80^th parallel. But the men were tired and the ponies were floundering, and Scott decided to drop the remaining supplies (2,200 lbs of them, or about one ton) right where they were, 37 miles shy of the target. This decision would prove fateful. On their return from the Pole, Scott and his hungry and exhausted men laid down to die just 12 miles from One Ton Depot. Had it been placed as originally planned, the men would have reached it, and perhaps have been saved.

____________________

A Note on Sources-

Ironically, because of Amundsen detailed preparations, and an expedition that seemed more like a sporting ski tour than a high adventure, his accomplishment was eclipsed by Scott’s dramatic tale of racing against death and his and his men’s resulting martyrdom. Scott’s eloquent journal entries, filled with dignity as he met his demise, captured the world’s imagination, and Amundsen has at times been overlooked. There have been those who have sought to right what they perceive to be this unwarranted slight of a great man, by debunking any claims of heroism in Scott. The result is that the debate between Scott’s and Amundsen’s respective admirers has often been full of rancor.

All of which is to say, that if you’re interested in learning more about this story, it’s best to make sure you read a book on each side of the controversy. Roland Huntford’s Last Place on Earth(1979), if a popular one, and gives a great deal of detail, but is also enormously, even comically biased against Scott–truly, his need to assassinate Scott’s character on each and every page will make you laugh out loud. Ranulph Fiennes’ Captain Scott offers a good balance to Huntford’s perspective of Scott as a man who could do absolutely no right. Fiennes is a modern-day Polar explorer who has actually man-hauled across Antarctica himself, and he uses his firsthand experiences to offer explanations for some of Scott’s criticized decisions–although sometimes he tries too hard, and the explanations aren’t entirely convincing. At any rate, the bad news here is that to really get a full, balanced picture of the race to the South Pole, you need to read over 1,000 pages of text; the good news, however, is that it’s such a fascinating story that you’ll likely find yourself eager to do it, and, if you’re anything like us, become so engrossed in the subject that you end up seeking out even more articles and books to learn more. (We couldn’t fit all the interesting bits we discovered in this article, but they’ll surely crop up within future posts.)

PS-There are so many interesting lessons you can glean from comparing the two expeditions, that I am astonished that there hasn’t been a leadership/business management book written on that score yet. So take note, AoM’s would-be authors and adventure-lovers–there’s an idea that would make an awesome book proposal. Perhaps you could even retrace Scott’s steps, to add your own personal insights to the subject.

No related posts.

It only had 65,000 miles.  A 2002 Mazda Millenia—my personal favorite of the Japanese near-luxury cars of that era.   I am an automotive enthusiast, but much like others here at TTAC, it’s not in the standard sense.  I’m the kind of guy who gets a rise out of seeing a purple Suzuki X90 on the road.  I would take an Alfa 159 over nearly any other car on the planet today (If I could get one in America), just because I want to park it in my driveway and lick it all over.   I value cars with character, unique vehicles with stories behind them, cars that represent value, have faults, and ultimately are fun or interesting.

So now you may understand why the Millenia was my preferred pseudo luxury ride of the turn of the, uh, Millenium.  Mazda built a car that had some of the trademarks of Japanese luxo-sedan comfort and quality, and true to form, made sure they paid homage to their own tradition of senseless eccentricity (Miller cycle V6), of course at the expense of reliability.  But fear not…this car had character, low miles, a nice interior and was stupid cheap.

The auction was No Reserve, ending soon.  Having bought a few cars from eBay, I felt comfortable with the inherent fact that you are taking a bit of a gamble when you commit to buying a car, sight unseen.  The other cars I’ve bought turned out to be wonderful values, and served me very well.  So you do what you can…run the Carfax (clean), check the sellers rating (98% on hundreds of transactions, which was lower than I’d like but…) send a few emails and ask a few questions.  I familiarized myself with this Mazda’s history of transmission and EGR related issues, so I asked about them.  The seller—we’ll refer to him as Chuck–answered my questions satisfactorily (transmission is smooth, no warning lights, car runs great, etc.), I placed my bid, won, and was soon on a 500 mile roundtrip journey to Delaware to pick up the car with my little brother assisting as a co-driver.

We arrive at the address I was given, give the car a once-over and go for a test drive.  The seller, admittedly, came across as a sketchy character, however, he evidently had showered or at least doused himself in fragrance, his hair was in orderly fashion, he spoke English and he wasn’t murdering anyone at the very moment I showed up to buy the car.  This was an eBay used car transaction, so you never know what kind of character you’re going to deal with, and you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, right?

I had a safety net–I figured that even if there was $2k worth of problems, I’d still be ok considering what I paid.  The car drove great, had no leaks or other evidence of mechanical issues.  I know that people advocate checking with a trusted mechanic—with reason—however, it must be said it is extremely impractical when traveling to get a car in an unfamiliar area.  I handed over the cash and my brother drove the Millenia home while I drove my old truck.  No problems getting home, the car ran great.

The next day I go out to the driveway and start the car up.  I notice the check engine light is on.  I back out of the driveway and see a big puddle of red.  Ruh-roh.

I top off the leaking transmission fluid and start rummaging around the car.  Inside the glove box, I find a Midas oil change receipt showing a name and address—not the same address I picked the car up at.  I also find another crumpled up receipt that I open.  This second receipt is from Autozone for a bottle of Lucas Transmission stop-slip, dated the day before—early in the morning.  He bought the fluid just before I came to pickup the car.

First things first—I call Chuck repeatedly, and he ignores the calls.  I get the car checked out and it is determined the transmission has a bad rear seal, and potentially more damage.  So I then file a claim with eBay Auction Insurance.   I come to find that the eBay account doesn’t belong to Chuck, but rather his friend, who allowed him to post on his account.  eBay Auction Insurance first tries to mediate and establish communication between the seller and I, however, being that the eBay account holder isn’t the guy who actually sold me the car, they don’t get too far.  Chuck does manage to make me one offer– if I drive 500 miles roundtrip (with a bad transmission?), when I get back to his town he’ll have his buddy swap another transmission in the car.  Clearly, this guy is an amateur.

To proceed with eBay Auction Insurance, I have to get multiple quotes for the transmission repair, which of course, required another leap of faith to open the thing up, where they determined a rebuild was necessary.  To Auction Insurance’s credit, they did cover the majority of the expense for a rebuilt transmission from my local Cottman franchise.  In order to get the check from them, I had to sign a release stating that I will not file any further claims with them on this car.  According to the Auction Insurance representative, they got nothing from the seller—they just flat-out cut me a check.  I’m pleased with this result, so I put new brakes and tires on the car to make it ready for hopeful long-term ownership.  However, over the course of the next year, the radiator explodes, the timing belt snaps, the cylinders misfire (frequently), and my wife gets stuck in the ghetto alone one day when it fails to start.  At 65,000 miles??

My wife and I both work, both drive a lot, and we’ve now got two very young children.  There is zero time in our lives to deal with unreliable cars.  The Mazda has got to go.  So I’m at a dealership looking at a new car, and meanwhile decide to get a trade-in appraisal on the Millenia.  I’m presented with a new Carfax.  This new Carfax shows that when I bought the car, there wasn’t 65,000 on the odometer as my first Carfax showed.  There was actually at least 113,000 miles.  A shop that serviced the car during those missing 50k kept old records that weren’t updated to Carfax until after I bought the car.  Carfax suggests there has been a mileage rollback on the odometer.  The value of the Mazda plummets.  I wasn’t going to rely on this car for my family, so I sell it at a significant loss with a full disclosure of the mileage discrepancy.

I contact Carfax and ask about their guarantee.  The truth is, there is no guarantee if the DMV doesn’t have a title on hand that shows an odometer discrepancy, which of course, they didn’t.   So I call the shop that according to the newer Carfax serviced the car during all of those “lost” miles.  They tell me they had just updated to a new computer based system and all their data was uploaded to Carfax—which explains why it wasn’t there when I first ran the report.  This smelled bad to me, so I ask for the service records.  They tell me they’ll release them to me only if I file for a request via the Maryland Attorney General.  I do, and a few weeks later I get the invoices.  The phone number of the owner isn’t Chuck’s, number, so I call it, and I get through to the guy who owned the car before Chuck.  This owner tells me his story…his daughter wrecked the car, so he put it on eBay and sold it as “salvaged” even though he never reported the wreck to the DMV or his insurance (didn’t want premiums to go up on his daughter).  So there was no salvage title.  He confirmed that he sold it to Chuck.  Bingo.

I go back to square one and the Midas receipt I found the same day I found the stop-slip receipt, and locate Chuck’s real address printed on the receipt (which wasn’t the one I picked the car up at).  I do some Googling—odometer fraud is a federal crime, so, I first contact the Department of Transportation, where I am informed that they only care about cases where established businesses are implicit of such fraud.   They tell me to go to the local jurisdiction where the transaction took place and file a civil case against the seller.

I don’t quite want to do that yet, so I go to the Consumer Protection Agencies in my state (Virginia), Delaware, and also California, where eBay is based (to request disclosure of previous owner’s sale to Chuck).  I report the fraud to each but in the end, no state or federal agency is going to help you in a case against another individual, and neither Carfax nor eBay are of any help at this point, either.   It’s just me and Chuck.

Let me add something important here…I’m the kind of guy who has to learn everything in life first hand.  This character fault has served me well in some manners, and not so well in others.  But I also take ownership and I don’t give up easily…I made this mess, so now I’ve got to clean it up.

I do my research and figure out what jurisdiction in Delaware would cover a civil case.  In September of 2010 I file a civil suit with the proper court in Delaware to sue Chuck for losses incurred from his fraud.   I take a wild guess and hope that the address on that Midas receipt is his residence and that the sheriff will find this guy when he goes to serve the papers.

Six months later I receive a response that the court has received and reviewed my case and will serve the civil suit to the defendant.

The following month I receive a notice in the mail telling me that I can claim a default judgment.  The defendant was serviced the case and refused to respond in any way.  I then submit a request to confirm the judgment.  Two weeks or so later, I receive a confirmation response.  Another few weeks pass, and I receive in the mail a Motion for a New Trial that Chuck has submitted to the court.  He claims that he can prove that he is not responsible for any of the car’s problems, and that he sold the car “as-is”.  I’m pissed that I’ve got to attend this hearing now—which was filed 20 days beyond the allowed time period but still awarded to the defendant by the court—but I’m happy at least that I now know for certain I’ve got the right guy and the right address.

I take a day off of work and drive 500 miles roundtrip for the hearing.  The defendant doesn’t show.  The judge tells me that Chuck filed for a new date for the hearing just the day before—saying he couldn’t make it.  This was not a timely filing—and neither was the original motion in the first place.  I remind the judge of this, and she denies the defendant’s request for a new trial—the default judgment holds ground.

Time to collect…but how?  I pay for one of those Intelius reports and it doesn’t do me any good–there are no employment records to be found on this guy.  Perusing the Delaware Justice of the Peace Court website, I find that I can file a request with the Delaware DMV to disclose any automotive assets they have on record for the defendant.  I do so.  Two weeks go by until I get a response.  Lo – he owns a 2004 BMW 740, no liens.  Even in the direst of shape, this car is worth more than the damages he owes me, so it will serve my purposes handsomely.  I do the next logical thing—file a levy for sale on that asset of his.  In other words, a sheriff serves the defendant with a lien on his property, with interest accruing.  If the defendant still doesn’t pay what is owed by a given time, then the plaintiff can request that the sheriff hold a sale on that property.  In some states the sheriff will seize the asset, but not in Delaware—he holds a sale literally at the defendant’s driveway.   Two weeks go by.  I receive a response in the mail—the sheriff paid the defendant a visit, and instead of accepting the levy, Chuck got in said BMW and drove off.  Levy was therefore “Refused”.

This is a moment of frustration…so a sheriff can show up at your door to inform you that they are going to put a levy on your car, and you can say “No Thanks”, and drive away, and they’ll do…nothing.  The court then sent me a letter noting that if I want to continue the case, I must send a letter to the court to ask them to hold a hearing for the defendant to explain why he refused the levy.  If he doesn’t show up or doesn’t provide a good excuse, he will be held in contempt of court and a warrant could potentially be put out for his arrest.

So of course I send a letter to the court asking them to hold this hearing.  They schedule the hearing in August of 2011.  I choose not to attend this hearing, figuring it was not worth taking a day off of work, driving 500 miles, and going to another hearing where the defendant most likely doesn’t show up.  Instead, I fax in a statement to the court, informing them that although I won’t be present, I request the hearing to continue and that the defendant should be held in contempt of court if he does not comply with the levy.  This was a good move…the judge noted that I was prejudiced in having to travel and saw my fax as a good faith letter that I was still fully involved with the process.  If I hadn’t sent this letter, I fear the whole thing may have merely been dismissed, and all my efforts would have been for naught.

I call the court the day after the hearing to find out what happened.  To my surprise, the defendant showed up this time, and avoided the contempt charge by saying he would pay the amount owed.  I receive a call from the Constable (Sheriff) informing me that he is going to deliver the levy to the defendant.  A few days later, I get in the mail a copy of the Levy—it has now been made on the BMW.  But that doesn’t mean this is over…now I’ve got to file yet another request with the court to hold a Constable Sale on the item that has been levied.   I file the request, submit the fee, and wait again.  The Constable sale is scheduled for over a month away.  At this point it has been 13 months since I filed the original suit.

The sale date rolls around and I get a call from a sheriff around 10am.  He is seemingly at the defendant’s doorstep about to auction off his 7-series, and the defendant presents him with a copy of a check and a certified mail receipt dated for the day prior, showing proof that he has sent me what is owed.  The sheriff asks if he can suspend the sale, so I grant it to him—although I have to fax the request to the court.  The next day I get my check in the mail.

In the end, this story is only useful as an educational tool for those who want to know how the process works when one gets caught up in the dark underworld of shady car deals and decides to go after somebody without the assistance or expense of an attorney.  Although it will involve time and effort on your behalf, the patience of a sage, as well as a little luck (like “smoking bullet” receipts in the glovebox), it is certainly possible, and it makes our world a better place if ultimately it helps us to more confidently and safely achieve our dreams and aspirations of cheap eBay Suzuki X90 ownership!

Tell us your eBay escapade.

Over the past few months, we’ve been testing and iterating on the new Auth Dialog to incorporate feedback from users, developers and other third parties. By introducing new ways for people learn about an app and giving them more control over their data, we believe this update will benefit both users and developers. Today, we’re making the improved version available and announcing the migration plan for developers.

More Control & Clarity for Users
Similar to the inline privacy controls people have when they post content, we are introducing a new, inline privacy setting that allows a user to control who can see their app activity on Facebook. With this setting, people can share their app activity with as large or small an audience as they'd like.

We have added headline and description areas, so developers can help people can learn about their apps before installing them. There is also a new area of the dialog to let people know when they're installing a Timeline app, which will share their activity in the app on Facebook. As we've previously described, we encourage developers to carefully consider their users' expectations and whether they should build separate in-app privacy controls.

Optional Permissions
It’s important for people to understand how permissions like 'publish_stream' and 'create_events' are used, so we’re moving extended permissions to a second screen, so they’re easier to review, and we’re making them optional for users. With this change, we’re also providing a new area that lets developers explain why they are requesting the optional permissions.

As part of our ongoing efforts to improve privacy protections for Facebook users, we are also deprecating the 'offline_access' permission. Instead, we are providing developers a method to reset the expiration time for valid, existing access tokens when a user interacts with their app.

There are no changes required for most apps, but developers utilizing the 'offline_access' permission will have until May 1, 2012 to update their apps. Learn more about upgrading access tokens.

Authenticated Referrals
Along with the new dialog, we are making Authenticated Referrals available to developers. If you're building a social app, where all of your users are Facebook users, this new product will streamline the authentication process. By enabling the feature, the permissions dialog will be displayed inline when people click any link to your app on Facebook, enabling you to personalize people's experiences the moment they arrive at your app.

Implementation & Required Steps
The new Auth Dialog is starting to rolling out today for web, mobile and desktop apps. You can start using it in your app by enabling the “Enhanced Auth Dialog” setting in the Developer App. When you upgrade to the new dialog, be sure to also provide a compelling, headline and description via the Developer App and verify that your apps don’t break if users deny optional permissions (see tutorial).

On February 1, 2012, all apps will be enabled for the improved dialog, but those that haven’t fully configured their dialog can disable the setting in the Developer App until February 15, at which time it will be turned on for all apps.

We appreciate the feedback we’ve received during the development of the new dialog over the past few months. If you have any questions or any additional thoughts, please post them to the comments below.

Palmilla Cocina y Tequila will make its delayed debut November 8 on Pier Ave in Hermosa Beach. This is the more upscale effort from Greg and Ron Newman, those behind the Baja Sharkeez chain which has sprung in many of Los Angeles' beach communities. As evident above, Palmilla is one of those sleek, modern numbers designed by Gulla Jonsdottir (Red O), with white banquette and booth seating, pronounced light fixtures, and a restaurant meets lounge feel. Contrary to the contemporary space, no modern Mexican eats here, rather the Newmans are going for home-style Mexican cuisine "featuring the freshest seafood and the finest cuts of beef, along with an amazing selection of premium tequilas."
&#183Sharkeez Owners to Open Palmilla Cocina y Tequila [~ELA~]

DOWNTOWN— Did you know that The Edison serves dinner? It does. Here's a look at executive chef Drew Coleman's new (food and drink) menu that launched about two weeks ago. In other news, The Edison has hired a new head baker, Holden Burkons, who previously worked at Craft (CC) as sous pastry chef. [EaterWire]

MID-CITY— FYI, Magnolia Bakery on Third Street now offers indoor seatage. [EaterWire]

VENICE— Here's a great deal for the alkies. Oscar's Cerveteca plus Broke Girls Guide is holding an all-night happy hour (7PM to close) next Monday. Drinks 30% off, $5 glasses of sangria, and a selection of plates mostly under $10. [Broke Girls Guide]

AROUND TOWN— On Aug 20, National Lemonade Day, both Spitz locations will offer drinking and dining deals to benefit Alex's Lemonade Stand. Come by for $4 lemonade sangria and $2 lemonade sorbettos, Spitz will donate 10 percent of all food and drink sales, as well as $1 for each lemonade sangria and sorbetto, to the foundation. [EaterWire]

[Photo: AbsintheMan.com]