Banner Ad: Please Fix Your Pacing Algorithm
Decorative Header Image

Archive for Mark McEachran

Pacing Algorithm for Advertising Campaigns and Inventory Allocations

I was trying to figure out what to do with my Sunday. My options were: build a little header bidding ad server plugin for WordPress; run, sleep and eat; or write up some blog post on a pacing algorithm, because people still seem to be producing crappy ones. Since you’re reading this, you can probably guess which choice I made. I mean, it’s not the first post I’ve written on the subject.

It showed up again last week. I didn’t expect it, but I guess I never do. A saw-tooth pattern on a chart, indicative of a capping of sorts. A chart that says, “I want a thing to happen, but only so much.” In this case it was a traffic allocation. This was a surprise.

A little (bad pacing algorithm) history

Most of the time when I run into a bad pacing algorithm it’s in the form of a campaign trying to limit itself. It only needs to acquire a few thousand impressions every five minutes, for example. So the hastily written algorithm might divvy up the impression allocation into five minutes buckets. Effectively that’s 12 buckets every hour. So it takes an hour’s worth of impression needs and divides it by twelve. One twelfth of the impressions are purchased every five minutes. Unfortunately at that point it switches to a simple counter that says, “for the next five minutes buy impressions until the number purchased reaches 1/12th of what I need in this hour.”

You end up with a purchase graph that looks like this.
Sawtooth Pattern exposes a bad pacing algorithm

See that blue spiky thing? That’s the one that’ll get ya. Read on to find out how this impacts the industry and how to fix it

Tokyo Tourist

Having just returned from my fifth trip to Tokyo, I think I’m finally comfortable offering some tips, tricks and a short-list of fun sights to see. This is by no means a comprehensive list. It’s just enough to facilitate your basic mobility needs and your curiosity. I’ll start with the airport.

Narita

Tokyo Travel StickerTerminal One at Narita International Airport is part airport, part train station, and part shopping mall. Your other international hubs have cute stores and all, but how many choices of kitch and foodstuffs and ramen shops can you find? Chances are you won’t find half as many as you do at Narita. The trick is that you have to hit both sides of T1 if you want to catch ‘em all. Unfortunately you’ll be locked into one or the other, depending on your airline. Worry not, wayward traveler, you win on either side.

Downtown

I’m still searching for the best way to get to downtown Tokyo from the airport. Right now I’m getting a full-fare ticket on the Narita Express (NEX) on the JR East railway. Unfortunately you have to pay cash, about 3,000 yen, if you want to use the automated machines. Your western credit cards won’t work in them. If all you’ve got is your Visa, you’ll have to wait in line and get it from an agent. If it’s your first time in JP, you might want to do that anyway. Some of the machine jibber jabber can be a bit confusing for a non-native, even when you set the language to English. Read on to find out the easy math of the Japanese Yen and how you might encounter more than a few smokers indoors

Switzerland

Stepping off the plane, I couldn’t help but notice that Basel airport bears a striking similarity to many rural, American airports. There are few gates, limited services, and only the essential airport staff. This might not be your point of entry, but if it is know that you’re not actually in Switzerland just yet. You’re in France.

Basel airport, if you didn’t guess by the name, services the Swiss city of Basel primarily, but at some point the lords of the air decided that it should be located outside the bounds of Europe’s favorite neutral country.

Catching a cab might be difficult here, and there’s no train to the city to speak of. I found a taxi sign sitting atop a weathered Tesla S-series sedan. Sadly, no driver was in sight. That was okay, I had my Lyft app – but they don’t. It was another dead end. Thankfully Uber had penetrated the market, and while I’d prefer not to use their service due to the reported corporate culture, I was out of alternatives.

Switzerland and the EU

Switzerland flag flanked by bicyclesSwitzerland is the first European country I’ve visited that went mostly untouched by the second world war. I say mostly because there several Allied bombings of Switzerland. One notable incident hit Schaffhausen. Stories are mixed. At the time the Allies cited bad weather that threw the bombers off course and confused the navigators. Others say it became a target when it started producing arms for the Axis. It almost makes me want to put “neutral” in quotes, and there I just did.

In any case, those days are long in the past and we’re all good friends now. Existing treaties do not make the country part of the EU, but they do keep up with most of the laws. Read on to find out the language and understand a how there’s more cheese than you can poke a hole in

Sand

The hot wind hit Angel like a warm towel. The sand aloft in the air scratched like the fabric. The sand, it was hard to walk through the sand with no socks — only shoes that he was forced to empty every block or two. The sand was everywhere in the city. It piled along the buildings and alleyways like the snowdrifts of years past.

Gone were the plows to clear the way for traffic. Occasionally the wind would reveal a patch of pavement. Sometimes Angel would spot a crosswalk or a yellow line that ran down the middle of the road.

Block by block he worked his way across the city. The sun baked down on him. Without his clothes his mile-long walk would have given him cancer, or at least an excruciating sun burn.

He walked it every week. He walked among the empty streets and buildings of this once magnificent, second city. This place had survived a tragedy before, a great conflagration that destroyed nearly everything. There was no escape for her majesty this time around. The devastation was complete, along with every other city around the world.

Ten years had passed since the last remaining vestiges of the world’s military squared off for the slivers of fertile land near the poles. The final battles took place in Antarctica. The West won, but their prize was short-lived. Even the southern continent succumbed to the warmth. The heat and the dryness obliterated crops, as they had done across the globe years before.

On he trekked, climbing over rusted relics that used to move along the streets, but were now buried in tons of silicon and grit. He climbed down from upper streets to lower streets on scattered fences, jumping into dunes when the makeshift ladder fell short.

Only the wind, the sand, the sun and the decay made any sort of sound. Glassless behemoths stood and howled, as if to call out in slow anguish while the years tore them down. Pitted walls gouged by the relentless beating of the air made them look as ancient stone in some places, relics and ruins in others.

The air was thick with heat, but short of oxygen. More than the shoes, exhaustion slowed Angel’s pace.

A world had gone wrong, infested with a short-sighted species that valued power over existence. A world that had been abandoned by logic and empathy had no recourse to right the wrong, and no way to cry for help.

This is only the beginning of a story based on a very strange dream. I also have a book coming out soon. If you’d like to be informed about my writing escapades you can follow me on Facebook or sign up for my mailing list.

Sign up to be informed about my writing escapades.


Michael’s Chimes

This is a story about Michael, a dear friend who recently passed. I told this story during his funeral service.

First, some housekeeping

If you are the owner of a small, green SUV with out-of-state plates – You may have gently bumped and dented Michael’s car.

So – over the last few days if you’ve been experiencing some strange things going on in your house:

  • Bumps in the night
  • Missing keys
  • Books removed from their shelves and stacked into vertical pillars
  • Or an unexpected toilet flush during your shower

Now you know why.

Wedding

Wind Chimes, CC https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

Photo by Mark Larson

Larry and Mike, Mike and Larry – a few years ago they gave my wife and I a gift of wind chimes. We let them sit there on the shelf for a year before I could track down the proper mounting hook that would allow us to put them outside our bedroom window. I finally found the hook a couple years ago and now they chime for us if the wind is just so.

In the middle of the night last night the wind was perfect.
I woke up to the sound of it tapping away a melody on the chimes. The wind on the chimes told me how to write this story.

At first their music reminded me of our wedding.

Thirteen years ago we managed to coax Mike and Larry to recite poetry at our wedding. It was at the end of our ceremony. The two boys got up and Michael took the microphone in his hand while Larry held the paper upon which the poem was printed.

It was titled Love, written by Roy Croft. It had six verses, and they were to alternate reading each verse.

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.

I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After All

As they read this poem the microphone began to shake in Michael’s hand. First it was a small tremor. And it grew little by little as each verse was recited. By the final verse the tiny colony of microphone lint was experiencing a 7.2 earthquake.

Carol

The chimes went on from the ceremony to the reception where we ate and danced. And Michael met my aunt Carol. And they danced and danced.

Having only met Michael once, 13 years ago, my aunt Carol asks about him every time I see her. Having only met Michael once, she will miss him.

Dealing with Life

The chimes then did something unexpected. With perfect pitch and timing they played the first four notes of the Star Trek theme song. – Of course they did because I said they did.

Captain Kirk once said: How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life. Based on the outpouring of attention, flowers, and companionship we can see that love is prevailing in both.

In the house yesterday I imagined Michael as a giant, like the ones the enterprise crew would face every third or fourth episode. This enormous man, 4-stories tall, was crouched down by the house with his arms wrapped around it. He was smiling at us – and sticking his finger through the window to bump someone just enough to spill their wine. And he laughed, because it was funny.

I think I will keep that vision of Michael. It’s comforting to know that he’s still there, his mischievous self, hugging the homes of his loved ones – and, occasionally, blowing on the wind chimes.