Forum One, a Washington and Seattle based digital communications consultancy has found a report on a World Bank report on… usage statistics on its own reports which are distributed in PDF.
While the original document (which is, itself a PDF) steams through 32 pages of blah de blah trying to correlate teeny tiny download statistics with other publishing factors like the cost of the study, the subject matter, the clarity of the expression of the paper’s development objective, they note, but proceed to ignore this very basic fact.
Almost no one is downloading their reports. I’m borrowing the Washington Post image to show you. Continue reading
I daily marvel at my daughter. I expect I’m like most parents. But I often get caught in the mental rut of baby parenting, despite the fact that Mallory’s eight. The baby parenting rut assumes the child is totally incapable of almost everything. But every now and again Mallory does something (or several things) to knock the needle out of that groove.
The issuing bank, which sent me an email alert today, presumably as weird charges started showing up, very kindly went over my current charges and I got a chance to dispute all the weird ones. I hope I got them all. So as of now, my card number is no good and I cannot log in to their online banking. So I can’t see what if anything I missed or got wrong. So that’s a drag. But because I phoned right away, they’re saying they’ll reimburse me for the disputed charges.
I have to wonder why phone polls are still news and still given so much credence both by the media, media consumers and the political class generally. Almost the most interesting thing about the Ontario election (apart from the disintegration of Tim Hudak’s written-for-buzzfeed campaign platform) has been how completely whacked opinion poll numbers have been.
This was waiting in the fridge for me when I got home from day two of the Rideau Lakes Cycle tour earlier this afternoon.
- See also Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour – 2014 a report from one of the radio operators that provide communications along the Classic route. Three ambulance-inspiring accidents. Ouch
I have some statistical trivia to share but the most important number to note is that in the last few months I’ve spent on average seven hours a week on my bike preparing. That’s a lot of time not spent looking after the child, the house and everything else to which I am committed as a father, partner and homeowner. I’d like to thank my lovely partner Irene Jansen for taking up that slack and tolerating that and my obsessive chit-chat about cycling numbers.
Speaking of which, I had a much better ride this year. My moving average this Sunday, for example, was 30.1km/h where last year’s was 29.1. The number for 2011 is 27.8km/h. Saturday was slower, and yet my average heart rate on Sunday was way lower (139bpm) than Saturday (158bpm). Could the tailwind do all that? I don’t have an actual power meter (they cost more than I paid for my bike) but Strava’s approximated power output says I worked harder Sunday (159 watts) than Saturday (155 watts).
But enough statistics. Let’s talk something really exciting. Road conditions.
Last year I raved about how great it was that they’d repaved 4th Line Road between Donnelly Drive and Marilyn Wilson Road.
I suggested that if they wanted to further the cause of cyclist butt preservation, they could take on the disintegrating pavement on First Line Road between Dilworth Road and Kars. (Heck they could drive the asphalt spreader all the way to 4th Line Road and not waste an ounce of tar.)
And lo and behold they’re repaving First Line Road between Kars and Dilworth. Co-incidence or conspiracy? Of course they were at the stage where they’d stripped off all the asphalt (no loss, really) and there was gravel and dirt for a couple of kilometres.
I don’t know if that road is a provincial or municipal responsibility but this citizen thanks whichever levels of government are responsible and tips my hat to the people doing the work.
Next year, I’d like to nominate Sand Lake Road or Rattle Ass Road as I like to call it.
I’m in Kingston now, holed up in my residence room after a couple of recovery beers. I don’t have my numbers because I only brought my phone and the GPS wants a computer to cough up the data, but I think I did well.