The unglamorous glamour of logistics

When it comes to iconic images of paradise, modern times have given the stalwart old coconut tree a rival. That rival is the laptop computer. Well, it’s not just a laptop computer. It’s a laptop computer on the lap of a smiling expat who is on a beach in paradise. It’s a common marketing theme. It titillates people with the notion of slipping the surly bonds of corporate life and living it up in the tropics.

Saipan is one place were I’ve seen that image come to life. Admittedly, a plain beach is a pretty lousy station for a computer, but a beachside table or cafe is sure a workable proposition. Been there. Done that. Got the mai tai.

When it comes to pulling off such a gig it is, like anything else, as much an issue of logistics than of strategy. In most cases we can’t really escape the office, we just have to shrink it and put it somewhere else.

The Boy Scouts have a saying about equipment: One is none and two is one. When it comes to computers, that’s more than a saying, that’s a creed, at least for me. I assume that any computer is five minutes away from terminal failure.

Fortunately, we no longer have to expose our expensive computers to the whims of the outside world. The world is awash with $300, and even cheaper, computers. Sure, they can’t always do much heavy lifting, but they can absorb the rigors of the field while the heavier iron stays in garrison.

That’s a blessing to heed. Life wasn’t always so accommodating. After dusting off my memories and adjusting for inflation, I note that one of my first laptop computers cost about $3,700 in today’s dollars.

Maybe those shiny, smiling people in the early laptop-on-the-beach photos weren’t really grinning out of happiness. No, they were grimacing in fear at the prospect of seeing how fast salt water can convert $3,700 into a smoking block of worthless plastic. These days, why worry? Heck, given the cost of fishing tackle, it might be cheaper to troll with a Chromebook. Is there an app for that?

Second only to the computer in importance is, of course, the laser printer. Here again, I’ll submit that one is none. I’m regarded as something of an outlier on this one. Although my pals understand the importance of having redundant computers, the notion of redundant printers seems like overkill. Then comes the day when a big project is due. At this point, any laser printer worth its sweaty little diodes will blow a head gasket and leave you stranded.

If you’ve got an identical model sitting in a box on the shelf, you just plug it in, and you’re done. Then you can take an extra-long cigarette break to reward yourself for your foresight. Ain’t life grand?

Otherwise, it’s not just the new hardware that you have to procure and mess with; the new software they bundle with the drivers can conspire against you, too. I don’t want to mess with any of that stuff if there are other things that I should be doing.

On the printer note, I will report that I’ve divested myself of color printers. The industrial-grade machines at print shops always seem to deliver better results than my consumer-grade equipment ever did.

On the consumables note, I have found, sometimes by bitter experience, sometimes not, that it pays to keep about one year’s worth of expendable supplies on hand such as paper, blank DVDs, blank CDs, paper sleeves for the DVDs and CDs, printer toner, mailing labels, envelopes, etc.

You may have wondered who funded the nice sign in front of National Office Supply. I think I get some credit for that; the sign was being built when I was first stocking the office I had on Saipan. I guess they saw me coming.

In most cases that I’ve seen, the laptop-on-the-beach gig is just the tip of the spear. There’s usually a more conventional “SOHO” (small office, home office) in the mix as well. Note I said “usually,” not “always.”

I have also seen people who bounced back into the cubicle world because they flubbed their shot at a laptop-on-the-beach life. They got nibbled to death by the endless cascade of unglamorous details, chores, and last-minute problems. The operating system wouldn’t operate, or the computer wouldn’t compute, or the printer wouldn’t print, or the CDs wouldn’t burn, or the store was closed when a box of labels was needed, and so on. There’s nothing as tyrannical as the vicissitudes of our liberating technology.

Some truths scale up and they scale down. This is one of them. From the largest army on the march to the smallest laptop computer on the beach, strategy may sound glamorous, but the mission rides on logistics.