Weblog of Paul Legan

2025 Year in Review

Paul Legan — Wed, 31 Dec 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Just so much food in 2025...

If 2025 sounded futuristic at the start of the year, it feels remarkably lived-in now. Somehow both quick and full - the kind of year where I look back and think, "all of that happened in twelve months?"

The short answer is yes. And the slightly longer answer is that 2025 was a year of paying attention. To food, to places, to the people sitting across from me, and to the small shifts that make ordinary days feel less ordinary.

Here are some highlights:

I leaned further into solo dining as a way to explore Philadelphia's restaurant scene - using it as a litmus test before bringing Kileen along. The success rate was absurdly high, and we ate very well this year.
A good French meal in Rittenhouse turned into a trip to Paris. Ate at L'Amour Vache and confirmed that inspiration is useless if it stays theoretical.
We returned to Amsterdam after many years, and the canals reminded me that cities designed around water and green space do something quietly good for the nervous system.
Kileen's siblings visited Philadelphia and gently wrecked our routine in the best way - borrowing pumpkins from a bar, finally trying Rita's Italian Ice, and reminding us to see our own city with fresh eyes.
Thanksgiving brought us back to Connecticut and Rhode Island, where a board game called Hues and Cues taught the table that most misunderstandings come from seeing the same thing through different lenses.
I walked through Georgetown in spring and felt the old wisteria-lined streets remember me before I remembered them.
The Sazerac recipe is now dialed. A few simple ingredients, a little focus, and an ordinary evening becomes something worth slowing down for.

At work, I pushed a concept with our team about being a thermostat rather than a thermometer - not just measuring what's happening, but actively adjusting and influencing outcomes. It felt like the right year to practice what I preach.

And honestly, the thread running through everything this year was refinement. Less accumulation, more subtraction. Bill Atkinson deleted 2,000 lines of code and made QuickDraw six times faster. I didn't do anything quite that elegant, but the principle stuck with me: sometimes real progress is what you remove.

I head into 2026 feeling present, well-fed, and grateful for a year that rewarded showing up and paying attention.

Past Years in Review

On Hues and Cues

Paul Legan — Sun, 30 Nov 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Every year, Kileen and I visit my parents in Connecticut for Thanksgiving, which is always a blast. In past years, we've tacked on additional places like Rhode Island, where we used to live about 10 years ago, to make the trip a mini-adventure around Southern New England.

Rhode Island State House in Providence

One of the surprise highlights of the trip was a board game my sister brought called Hues and Cues. The rules are simple. Someone gives a clue about a color, everyone else guesses. The fun part is realizing how quickly confidence falls apart when everyone is picturing something slightly different.

Hues and Cues

A few rounds in, the trick becomes obvious. The clues are not objective, they are personal. "Ocean blue" or "Barney purple"^[Barney had very defined periods of different costume colors throughout the series.] depends entirely on who is talking. Age, memories, and references all quietly shift the color without anyone noticing.

By the end, the game is less about color and more about translation. You stop hearing the word and start hearing the person. Which is a useful reminder that most misunderstandings are not about being wrong, they are about seeing the same thing through different lenses.

Family in Town

Paul Legan — Mon, 27 Oct 2025 00:00:00 GMT

This past week, Kileen's siblings came to visit us in Philadelphia. One of my favorite things about having family and friends in town is how it gently wrecks routine. You think you're hosting. What you're really doing is rediscovering your own city through someone else's curiosity.

Benjamin Franklin Bridge all lit up at night.

This visit followed the pattern perfectly. One night started with the usual tourist stuff and somehow ended with us “borrowing” pumpkins from a bar along the water beneath the Benjamin Franklin Bridge. No plan, no agenda, just the city slowly nudging us toward a better story than the one we thought we were telling.

We also managed to close down Rita's Italian Ice for the season, which still makes me laugh. Kileen and I have walked past that place more times than I can count, never stopping once on our own. Apparently all it takes is out of town energy to finally say yes to the obvious.

Sometimes the best way to experience your life is to let someone else visit it.

On Canals

Paul Legan — Thu, 25 Sep 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Back in Amsterdam after many years, and the first thing I noticed wasn’t the bikes or the buildings. It was the water. The canals don’t just decorate the city, they slow it down. You feel it immediately, like your nervous system just got a memo to relax.

Hard to pick just one photo of one canal but here I go.

The canals and green spaces work together quietly. Reflections in the water, trees lining the paths, small parks appearing just when the city feels dense. It all feels familiar and grounding, like the city is designed to be lived in, not just moved through.

Amsterdam still knows a secret a lot of cities forget. If you weave water and green space into daily life, people feel better without needing to explain why. Coming back reminded me how easy it is to fall in love with a place that gives you room to breathe.

On Summer Heat

Paul Legan — Sat, 23 Aug 2025 00:00:00 GMT

August always makes me miss the West Coast. I do way better as a human in 50-70° weather than I do in 70-90° weather.

Yes, Fish & Chips help beat the heat...

Though I prefer finding shade to creating it.

That being said, I've made an effort to embrace the parts of summer that make the East Coast special. To me, that means dining al fresco, finding shady parks, and enjoying the cool breeze whenever it comes around.

Inspired by Food

Paul Legan — Sat, 12 Jul 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Okay, so sometimes a trip to a local French restaurant inspires a trip to an actual French restaurant in France.

L'Amour Vache

You're having a nice lunch in Rittenhouse and you realize the only honest next step is to book a flight and go eat at an actual French restaurant like L'Amour Vache.

Inspiration is useless if it stays theoretical.

On Dining Alone

Paul Legan — Sat, 14 Jun 2025 00:00:00 GMT

I love dining alone^[Yes, I am an introvert. And yes, the photo below depicts two people because I forgot to get a shot when I was there alone last week.]. I know that's a polarizing topic, and not everyone feels comfortable doing it, but I've found that it's a great way to explore new restaurants and cuisines without the pressure of socializing.

Parc Restaurant in Rittenhouse Square

Whenever Kileen is out with friends, I try to find a new place as a "litmus test" to see if we should go back together. Naturally old favorites tend to get in the way of this challenge, so my fallback plan is to revisit a classic but order something different and unique from everything we've had before.

So far in 2025, my success rate is about 95%, so the data suggests I really need to push myself even more in the second half of the year.

On Making a Sazerac

Paul Legan — Sat, 03 May 2025 00:00:00 GMT

There's something about dialing in a Sazerac that reminds me why I chase these little rituals. A few simple ingredients, a bit of focus, and suddenly you've turned a regular evening into something that sticks with you. It's proof that care doesn't have to be dramatic to matter.

There's a lot to learn by iterating on a recipe.

And honestly, that's the same energy I try to bring to the rest of my life. I'll taste something great at a restaurant and then spend weeks messing with it at home, not to copy it but to figure out what makes it tick.

Work isn't any different. Most days are just a mix of trying things, tweaking them, and paying enough attention that the next version comes out cleaner. Perfecting a cocktail is really just practice for noticing the little shifts that make everything better, whether it's a whiskey drink or a messy project someone needs untangled.

On Nostalgia

Paul Legan — Fri, 04 Apr 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Georgetown Wisteria

I walked through Georgetown today, and the brick streets and sagging townhouses felt like they'd been holding their breath since I left.

There's something about returning to a place that once mirrored your taste before you even had one. The chipped paint, the ivy, the symmetry all remind me that beauty isn't just what pleases the eye; it's what quietly remembers you after you've gone.

Less, Better

Paul Legan — Thu, 13 Mar 2025 00:00:00 GMT

There's this great little story from the early days of Apple. Bill Atkinson, the genius behind QuickDraw, rewrote part of the code to make it six times faster. In doing so, he deleted about 2,000 lines. When asked to report how many lines of code he'd written that week, he simply wrote: -2000.

That little moment says a lot. We're often taught to equate productivity with doing more. More features, more lines of code, more... stuff.

But sometimes, real progress comes from taking things away. Cleaner. Simpler.

As Saint-Exupéry put it: “Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”

Sometimes the most elegant algorithm starts with git rm.

Changing the Temperature

Paul Legan — Sat, 22 Feb 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Thermostats & Thermometers

I recently presented this thermometer vs. thermostat idea to my team, and it's been bouncing around in my head ever since. In our world of digital marketing consulting (where we're buried in dashboards, campaign metrics, and content performance reports) it's easy to fall into the trap of just measuring things.

Early in my career, I did that a lot. I was basically a walking thermometer: tracking numbers, building clean reports, and moving on. But real impact comes when you shift into thermostat mode: when you actually use the data to adjust, influence, and optimize.

That shift takes critical thinking. It's the active ingredient that transforms “here's what happened” into “here's what we should do.” Without it, we're just reading the room. With it, we're changing the temperature.

On Timing

Paul Legan — Wed, 08 Jan 2025 00:00:00 GMT

Sometimes, you don't need to be a pro to capture something beautiful—you just need to be there when the moment shows up. I snapped this photo without a filter, fancy gear, or even much intention.

I got quite lucky with this shot of Carmel-by-the-Sea beach.

I just happened to be walking by as the light cut through the fog and trees like a scene straight out of a sci-fi movie. The silhouettes, the glow, the stars...none of it was planned. It was all timing.

You can plan and prep all you want, but some of the best moments happen when you're just present and paying attention. Whether it's catching the perfect beam of light or stumbling into an unexpected conversation, timing often does the heavy lifting. All we really have to do is show up.

2024 Year in Review

Paul Legan — Tue, 31 Dec 2024 00:00:00 GMT

Trees for ~~days~~ years.

I'm just going to come out and say it. The year 2025 sounds futuristic. I don't know what it is - maybe the way it looks - but reading it out loud sounds like the distant future to me. And yet, tomorrow I will write that date at the top of my notebook. Wild.

That being said, this post is less about tomorrow and more about the recent past of 2024. And frankly, I have next to nothing to complain about. My work remained in balance with life, and Kileen's work provided her with endless satisfaction.

With trips to all our favorite North American spots - along with a few international trips to Ireland for my friend's wedding, and Italy for, let's face it, endless pasta - the year was a great balance between time at home and time away.

Villa Borghese hydrochronometer (water clock).

4th Cacio e pepe order in 3 days.

That being said, there was one big part of 2024 I don't look back on with happiness. I was very disappointed with our American election results last month, and 2025 already seems like it's going to rouse some rabble as a result.

Despite that outcome, I remain steadfast in my desire to grow and refine myself according to my own values.

Past Years in Review

On Cuts and Folds

Paul Legan — Tue, 12 Nov 2024 00:00:00 GMT

I recently went down a textbook, multi-hour Wikipedia trail while in research mode for family gift ideas. Somewhere along the way I came across the term kirigami, which I'd never heard before.

Now, I've known about - and had a lot of fun with - origami since I was little, but kirigami? The differences between the two really got me thinking about more than paper.

With origami, it's all about folding, no cutting allowed. It teaches us how to work within limits, turning one plain piece into something beautiful. It's a great reminder that even when life feels rigid, creativity and patience can help us make the most of what we've got.

But with kirigami, cutting is part of the process. This art shows us that sometimes, you've got to let go of a piece to create something even better. The cuts may feel permanent, but they open up space for new ideas, perspectives, and growth.

I suppose the secret sauce is in knowing when to fold and when to cut. Life isn't always perfect, but whether you're bending or carving, every step shapes one's story.

In the end, it's all about turning the simple into something meaningful.

On (Mostly) Untouched Land

Paul Legan — Tue, 17 Sep 2024 00:00:00 GMT

The approach to Malin Head

From the top of the cliffs

Last month we visited Buncrana (County Donegal) in Ireland for the second installment of my friend's wedding. One of our stops along the way was Malin Head (Cionn Mhálanna), which quickly become one of the most scenic vistas I've ever encountered.

Living most of my adult life in major cities, I relish the opportunity to be in Wide Open Spaces™.

AI is a Workhorse

Paul Legan — Sun, 11 Aug 2024 00:00:00 GMT

Every business needs both a "show pony" and a "workhorse" to really succeed. The "show pony" is the flashy, innovative product or service that turns heads and gets people talking. It's the thing that makes your brand stand out from the competition and grabs attention.

But just as important is the "workhorse"—the reliable, everyday offering that consistently gets the job done and keeps customers coming back for more. The workhorse builds trust and provides the steady foundation your business needs to thrive.

Here's the thing: while the show pony gets the spotlight, it's the workhorse that pays the bills. You need both because one without the other either burns out fast or never catches fire at all.

The real magic happens when you can balance innovation with reliability, keeping customers excited but also confident that you'll always deliver. It's that blend that keeps businesses growing over the long haul.

Many people are convinced AI is a show pony with its flash and novelty, but I see its place more as a workhorse longterm.

On Yak Shaving

Paul Legan — Mon, 22 Jul 2024 00:00:00 GMT

The phrase comes up quite often in software engineering, but I didn't know it was inspired by an episode of The Ren & Stimpy Show in the 1990s.^[Attributed to Carlin J. Vieri, a Ph.D. student at Massachusetts Institute of Technology at the time.]

Yak shaving reflects the subtle complexity of everyday tasks. It begins with a simple goal, but each step reveals new dependencies—small actions that seem essential to the greater objective. In the pursuit of efficiency, we find ourselves tangled in unrelated tasks, losing sight of our original aim.

I've been there. Most likely will be there in the future.

One thing I've accepted is that it's a quiet reminder that productivity is not just about doing more but understanding when to stop and refocus, resisting the allure of infinite preparation.

Fishmongers on Wheels

Paul Legan — Thu, 06 Jun 2024 00:00:00 GMT

Scallop ceviche

Our fishmonger operates out of a van in Philadelphia. There I said it.

Now getting raw fish^[Both blast frozen and fresh, all sushi quality.] out of a van in Center City Philadelphia was hardly on my bingo card for 2024, but since we've started to order from Small World Seafood, we've really had a blast cooking a variety of dishes from places we've visited around the world. The quality comparison to supermarket seafood is jarring.

Not only was this scallop ceviche pretty awesome to make and eat but it was a reminder that inspiration comes from unexpected places.

Sometimes that place is a van.

Simply Complex

Paul Legan — Mon, 13 May 2024 00:00:00 GMT

Remember dealing with this beast?

Web development has always had its challenges, but the modern landscape is a paradox. We've made strides in simplifying some aspects, yet introduced a maze of complexity in others. Build tools and frameworks have multiplied, making the starting point feel like a daunting decision for no good reason.

There's a pressure to adopt the latest tech just to prove you're at the bleeding edge. This has led to a trend of overengineered solutions, where complexity is mistaken for sophistication.

Clients worry about scalability and fret over the absence of trendy technologies. Simple diagrams are dismissed as underdeveloped. They equate fewer servers with inefficiency.

In reality, the simplest solutions are often the best. Focusing on what's absolutely necessary to deliver a superior experience is often an exercise in subtraction, not addition.

On Plans and Planning

Paul Legan — Sun, 21 Apr 2024 00:00:00 GMT

Let's make a plan.

Winston Churchill knew a thing or two about the paradoxes of leadership. His aphorism, “Plans are of little importance, but planning is essential,” is one of those gnomic utterances that sounds like a Zen koan but actually brims with practical wisdom. Let's delve into this seeming contradiction and how it plays out in the corporate world, where PowerPoints and strategy documents multiply like rabbits on espresso.

First, let's get this out of the way: Plans are a bit like New Year's resolutions. They look great on paper and inspire a fleeting sense of control and optimism. You know the type—promising to hit the gym thrice weekly, eliminate carbs, or—if you're a company—dominate the market by Q3 with a revolutionary app that combines Tinder, Uber, and a life coach. But much like those gym visits dwindle to zero by February, most business plans don't survive first contact with reality.

Take Kodak, for instance. Once the behemoth of the photography world, they had a plan: keep selling film. They even had the digital camera technology but shelved it to avoid cannibalizing their film sales. Spoiler: the digital wave drowned them anyway. Their meticulously crafted plans were rendered obsolete by the relentless march of technology. It wasn't the plan that mattered; it was the lack of adaptive planning that led to their downfall.

Now, let's talk about planning, the verb. Planning is the process, the mental calisthenics that prepare you for the unexpected. It's the difference between having a map and learning to navigate. A map shows you a predetermined route; navigation skills let you adapt when a hurricane has turned your highway into a waterway.

Consider a tech startup launching a new product. The initial plan might lay out a clear path: develop MVP, beta test, market launch, iterate based on feedback. But then, the real world intrudes: a key developer quits, a competitor releases a similar feature, or a pandemic disrupts supply chains. This is where the act of planning shines. The team's ongoing planning sessions, their constant re-evaluation of resources, timelines, and goals, allow them to pivot, to re-route, to transform obstacles into opportunities.

Remember Agile methodologies? That's planning personified. In an Agile framework, the emphasis is on iterative progress and constant feedback. Teams don't cling to a rigid blueprint; they adapt and evolve. Each sprint reflects a microcosm of Churchill's wisdom—plans may change, but the discipline of planning ensures continuous improvement and responsiveness.

Finally, Churchill's insight encapsulates a vital truth for businesses: the static nature of plans can become a liability in a dynamic world. What truly matters is the continuous process of planning—an activity that fosters agility, resilience, and creativity. Embrace the irony that your plans will likely falter, but your commitment to planning can transform chaos into opportunity.

Note: I'm pushing myself to write with greater depth and intention when I connect with a topic. Writing like this in public will help me become a better writer.