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I've tried to come up with a site design that I think is intuitive and simple, without seeming too "old fashioned." Although it uses XHTML, cascading style sheets, and HTML behaviors (JavaScript connected to HTML elements through styles, rather than directly), it shouldn't look too bad on a browser that doesn't support them.
In the case of Microsoft Windows XP SP2, though, the default security settings will warn you about "active content" and disable the HTML behaviors. Really, though, you can enable "active content" for the pages on my site. It works pretty well without it, but the user experience will be a bit better if you do.
That being said, it's probably technically optimized for IE5+, but should work on IE4 (and maybe even IE3) with only a minimal loss of functionality. It was only tested on IE6, though, so I have no idea how it looks on Netscape, Opera, Lynx, or any other browser.
The site was authored at the slightly silly resolution of 1600x1200, but it should look acceptable at 800x600 and up.
Want to comment about it? Swing away.
My first name is derived from the Greek word for "crown" (stefavos) and my middle name from the Old English for "fox" (todh). Put 'em together and you get Crownfox.com. (Well, my mom thinks it's clever.)
Huh. Turns out that "Crownfox" is also the name of an orchid. Go figure.
Ahh, the eternal question: Just how much "about me" should I share? Okay, first, the usual stats:
Name: Steve Adams
Birthdate: 13 July, sometime in the latter half of the 20th century
Height: 5'11" (180cm)
Weight: Too damn much
Hair: Blonde, but getting darker every day
Eyes: Blue
Now that's out of the way, my life story, condensed edition:
I was born the son of a poor, black sharecropper... Whoops, wrong story. My dad was an officer in the US Air Force, so we travelled around a lot when I was young: Texas, California, North Dakota, and 3 years in Belgium. The rest of the time, and continuously since 1978, I've lived in Washington, so I think it's safe to consider me a native. (Yes, I have gills and webbed feet. It rains here a lot. No, really. Stop moving here; you wouldn't like it.)
Growing up, I don't think I ever really thought about what I wanted to be when I got older, although I remember a period of time in the 4th grade where I really liked the idea of being a long-haul trucker. Now that I'm older and know a little more about what that life's like, I don't know what I was thinking. Talk about a thankless job....
Eventually, around age 14 or so, I decided that I needed to figure out what I was going to do with my life. At the time, one of my bigger interests was in the military organizations (weapons, structure, tactics, etc.) of the US/NATO and the Soviet Union/Warsaw Pact. As well as my apparent facility with languages, I was interested in history and international relations, and thought of myself as a reasonably logical and critical thinker, so I came to the conclusion that the career best suited to my interests was that of military analyst for the CIA. Yes, that CIA.
I had my first interview with a representative late in my senior year in college, filled out the exhaustive application form (with essay, natch), and went through the background screening. After a time, I received my itinerary for a trip to Virginia for a medical, polygraph, and my final round of interviews. I was on my way! And then, about the time I was expecting the airline tickets and a more-detailed itinerary, I got a form letter thanking me for my interest in the CIA. Whoah... huh? (They make a point of telling you, early in the application process, that you won't know why they reject you, so don't ask.) Just like that, my plans of the previous 6 years were out the window.
So what the hell was I going to do now? Since I really wanted some kind of analyst's job with the feds, I looked into (and interviewed with) the FBI and DEA. I seriously considered Air Force Officer Training School, getting as far as taking the medical before changing my mind. Eventually, I even took the written and physical tests for my county sheriff's department (scoring 3rd or 4th out of over 200 applicants on the written test, which is a pretty scary statement when you consider I didn't study a bit and many of the others studied a lot) and was all set to enter the academy as part of the first new group of recruits, when one of the resumes I'd sent out got a hit.
You see, sometime after I'd come to terms with the idea that my grand vision for my future wasn't likely to pan out, I'd spent some time trying to figure out what else I'd like to do with my life. I'd enjoyed creative writing since I was about 10 or so, I'd had a streak of serious interest in computers in the '80s (even did some hacking and "phreaking," back in the day)... was there something I could do with these skills/interests? A-ha! I could be a technical writer! But my computer skills were fairly out of date (and had never been on PCs) and I didn't know the first thing about technical writing. What to do?
"What to do" was use my written language skills to get a job where I could develop my computer skills, hence a bunch of resumes that I sent around. One of these resumes resulted in an interview for a editor's position at a business directory company that was very technology-intensive. Although I didn't get that position, another opened up a few weeks later that they offered to me. While there, I constantly pestered the network and database guys, eventually learning a lot about Novell networks and the FoxPro database system, as well as DOS, Windows, and some about the C language. When that company relocated to Florida, I used my new skills to get a tech support job at a small software company. After about 2.5 years there, I had the knowledge and skills to gain a contract position at Microsoft as a software test engineer on Windows 95.
Although they offered me a fulltime position as a tester in late 1995, I still wanted to be a tech writer. In January 1996, roughly 5 years after I decided on Career Plan #2, I was hired as a tech writer on the Microsoft Project team. Success!
(After 6 years as a tech writer, I decided to try out some other things. I've been a software developer for internal tools since early 2002.)
* * *
And now, without further ado (but with apologies to James Lipton and "Inside the Actor's Studio"), I bring you Marcel Proust's famous questionnaire, as popularized by the French talk show host Bernard Pivot:
What is your favorite word?
Ohh... there's so many. Just one? Hmm... well, "cake" conjures up all kinds of pleasant images, so let's go with that.
What is your least favorite word?
Believe it or not, this is probably the toughest question for me. I'd be hard-pressed to say I actually have a least favorite word, but I do find "enjoy" to be particularly annoying when used like some sort of command in brochures, introductions in product manuals, after the server brings your food, etc.... Enjoy! <grumble>
What turns you on?
Eureka moments. You know: You've been mulling over some problem in your subconscious, when BAM! you've got a solution. They just get me totally jazzed to run off and do something.
What turns you off?
Whenever people can't or won't do their job at a basic level of competence. It's not like I expect stellar service all the time, or at all, but when someone can't be bothered to do even the bare minimum... ooh, that really pisses me off.
What sound do you love?
This is corny, I know, but the sound of my daughter's laughter just brightens my day. (I'm pretty partial to a revving Ferrari 512LM, too.)
What sound do you hate?
You know that sound tires make when someone's brakes are locked? Every time I hear it, my back tenses up while I wait for that horrible <crunch> at the end.
What is your favorite curse word?
"Son of a bitch," with the stress on different words, depending upon my mood and the particular thing I'm trying to express. (Okay, so it's a phrase and not a word. Sue me.)
What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?
Well, duh. Professional race car driver.
What profession would you not like to participate in?
Based on past experience, most anything that's real "customer service"-oriented. Not that I mind it in and of itself, but my patience has been known to run short rather easily, and having "face time" all day with customers burns me out pretty quickly.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"Great first draft, but we've got some revisions we'd like you to try out. Mind giving it another shot?"
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