When I first started this blog, I made a conscious decision to not name names. And then I thought, why not? My three readers want to know those names! And so I named names. That’s all fine and dandy when the days are always sunny and the breezes smell of rose petals, but when the storm clouds collect and the wind knocks over the porta-potty, it’s ultimately best not to publicly kiss (or, more accurately, kiss off) and tell. So I took the names off. Nonetheless, some people, the good people, deserve to get named.
So here’s my kiss-and-tell manifesto:
1. If someone does a great job and said job is complete (that is, they are no longer needed on the project [which means the builder, the architect, and the wife are not eligible for naming until the whole she-bang is done]), I will name that someone. The good-uns deserve recognition. I should note that getting named doesn’t mean perfection (although it helps greatly). There will be errors. But how those errors are dealt with will determine whether or not names get named (unless the errors turn into a comedy of errors). Note that, similar to a mutual fund, past performance does not guarantee future results. The buyer still needs to beware.
2. If someone does a crappy job, they ain’t getting named, but by Jove, I’m gonna write about it. I might reveal the who-dat’s in private conversation depending on the inquisitor and the number of cocktails I’ve imbibed (just as a non-blogger would do), but I won’t on this blog. Sorry. Perhaps they were incompetent, perhaps they had a bad day, or perhaps they had a one-out-every-one-hundred customers brain fart. Nonetheless, I honestly hope they learn something from the experience, change their evil ways, and become capable of providing someone (anyone?) great service.
3. If someone is peripheral to the whole operation (like those architects we interviewed and didn’t select), I don’t plan on naming ‘em on the blog (although they may be revealed later in the context of something else if all I have to say are nice things).
When I started this blog, my intent was to accurately portray the process in something I would have wanted to read before diving in myself. However, once Architect 1.0 became aware of this humble electronic tome, I needed to be careful about what I posted to prevent the blog from stressing the relationship. Unfortunately, from the standpoint of accurately portraying the (potential) drama in-bedded in the process from the perspective of the client, that calculus will still play a part in what I post here. However, just so you don’t think everything is sunshine and rose petals, here on out I will use the top-secret phrase “[muffled grunts]” when I’m frustrated that I “can’t” tell you the full story [muffled grunts] [Wow! So soon?!?!].
During the interview-a-herd-of-architects process, I was concerned this blog was going to prevent us from hiring someone (one architect dropped a major [vaguely critical] hint that he had read it). At one point, I thought of taking this sucker down lest we get stuck with a grey-haired dude armed with a pencil sharpener and a T-square grunting “Interwebs!!! I don’t need no stinkin’ interwebs!!! Now let me tell you about dog trots and outhouses…” Fortunately, it appears we’ll get a house with an indoor pooper. The blog is still here; the horizon before us…