Tag: Web Development - Page 15 - UNDERDOG of PERFECTION

TinyMCE and the non-breaking space problem

Let’s get right to it then: TinyMCE is great, but I am annoyed by its willingness to take users’ multiple spaces literally! Collapsing multiple spaces is a basic characteristic of HTML, and allowing users to carelessly (or intentionally, which they still shouldn’t do) insert multiple spaces by converting every other one of those spaces into the   (non-breaking space) character is BAD!

IMHO.

Anyway… start with a pinch of Stack Overflow, add a dash of the official TinyMCE documentation, along with a heaping tablespoon of reading between the lines, and I have a working solution to the problem. My installation of TinyMCE now automatically converts any   characters in the text back into regular ol’ spaces.

It’s a bit draconian; after all there are legitimate uses for non-breaking spaces. But 95% of the times they’re inserted by TinyMCE are user accidents, and another 4.9% of those times are abuses like faked “tabs” that would be solved better by another approach altogether. (There are reasonable CSS-based solutions that work in some cases, but let’s talk HTML’s need for tabs another time.)

Anyway… here’s the gist of the solution. You need to create a callback function. Here’s mine:

function my_cleanup_callback(type,value) {
  switch (type) {
    case 'get_from_editor':
      // Remove   characters
      value = value.replace(/ /ig, ' ');
      break;
    case 'insert_to_editor':
    case 'submit_content':
    case 'get_from_editor_dom':
    case 'insert_to_editor_dom':
    case 'setup_content_dom':
    case 'submit_content_dom':
    default:
      break;
  }
  return value;
}

It may look like there’s a lot of extra stuff in here you don’t need; I included all possible values for type inside the switch to be prepared for the future. You do want to check for type == 'get_from_editor' though; otherwise your replace() is going to run under way too many conditions and may cause weird behavior like new paragraphs appearing when you just want to insert new text into an existing one, or browser-generated warnings about leaving the page when you try to save. (I ran into both as I was fine-tuning this.)

Now that you have your callback function, you just need to… you know… call it. That’s done inside tinyMCE.init(). You’ll need to include this line somewhere:

cleanup_callback: 'my_cleanup_callback',

Be sure to check if cleanup_callback is already declared somewhere, and also don’t forget the comma at the end, unless you’re inserting this as the last line.

Once you’ve got it all rolled out to your site, you’ll need to clear your cache. I’ve found TinyMCE’s configuration files can be annoyingly persistent in the browser cache.

Yes… you have correctly observed that I had to use non-breaking spaces myself in this post, to get the indents in the code samples to show. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. And remember my complaint about the lack of tab characters in HTML. Another day.

Practical responsive web design, part one

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while, but I’ve been too busy writing code instead. Plus, the techniques are evolving and changing so fast, that by the time I finish a project, the way I built it is already obsolete.

Now, with the Breaking Development Conference in town and a few recent responsive site launches under my belt, it seemed like a good time to write up a summary of what I’ve learned, what I’m doing, and where I think all of this is going.

First, a quick aside. I didn’t attend the conference. I would have liked to, but as an independent developer I never seem able to justify the standard $500-per-day rate most conferences charge. That doesn’t mean the conferences don’t have value; they’re just not for me.

Before we begin

There are a few caveats I want to lay down before I start talking about responsive web design:

This stuff is changing… fast. Anything I write here may become foolishly out of date by the time I hit the “Publish” button. Responsive web design is a work in progress, and there are no rules (yet).

What I’m doing may not be “by the book,” proper-name Responsive Web Design. The book is great, and there are “experts” who have much deeper knowledge of these strategies than I do. But as I said above, there are no rules (yet). I want to describe the practical techniques I am employing on actual live web projects, under often less-than-ideal circumstances.

Every website is different. The company is different. Its audience is different. The content and style and context where it will be viewed are different. The balance between showing off fancy new features on high-resolution tablet displays and supporting corporate IT departments that are still straggling with Windows XP and Internet Explorer 6 will vary. In short, what I am doing may not work for you. But I hope it can give you some ideas that will.

A practical baseline

My goal with responsive design is to get the biggest “bang for my (client’s) buck.” I recently read a about a study that found almost 4,000 different Android devices in a site’s access logs, with many of them only appearing in the logs once. It is not possible to account for all of these variations. And, after its primary goal of providing an optimal user experience across a variety of devices, not needing to account for each of them individually is the second biggest purpose of responsive design. (That’s also, arguably, its biggest practical benefit.) By building on a fluid, flexible structure from the beginning, a site will look good regardless of slight variations in its presentation.

But I’m not starting from scratch. I work with a number of designers who deliver their work to me in a variety of formats (usually Adobe software). They’re tremendously talented, but they don’t all have a full working knowledge of fluid grids and all of the other considerations that go into responsive web design. So my job is largely to translate these “traditional” web designs into something that works, more or less, with a responsive approach.

I’m targeting three basic screen types: computer (desktop or laptop, including iPad in horizontal orientation), tablet (primarily iPad in vertical orientation, but also smaller tablets like the Kindle Fire or the Nook Color), and smartphone (primarily iPhone, but also Android and Windows Phone). Additionally, I am trying to balance a Mobile First approach with support for Internet Explorer 7 and 8. (I am fortunate to be in a position not to need to worry much about IE6 anymore, and IE9 plays well with CSS3 media queries.) In some cases I am also targeting “very large” computer displays, those with a horizontal resolution of 1280 or above, with a scaled-up layout.

So, instead of accounting for 4,000+ different screens, I’m aiming at 3 (or 4) general screen categories. I am also accounting for two basic browser categories: IE 7 and 8, and everything else. (Yes, if you approach it in the right way, it’s really that simple. Almost.)

Fixed, yet flexible

With this “practical baseline” in mind, and working primarily with traditional fixed-width web designs as a starting point, I’ve established break points (widths at which the layout changes significantly) at around 700 pixels (varying by site between 640 and 720); at 960 pixels for the “standard” computer (and horizontal iPad) layouts; and, for the “very large” displays, at 1200 pixels. This allows for a traditional fixed-width web design approach to be used, rather than accounting for a completely fluid layout across all screen sizes. It may sound like a cop-out, but I find it to be a very helpful way to get things done when collaborating with designers who are not living and breathing this stuff the way I do every day.

For screens below my “around 700” threshold, I drop into a fully-fluid, single-column layout targeted at the smartphone user experience. In these cases there may be other significant changes to the layout, such as collapsing content blocks into expandable buttons, allowing users to quickly see what’s on the page without having to scroll endlessly. (This is not a radical invention of my own… it’s more-or-less how the mobile version of Wikipedia functions.)

In part two, I will get into the details of how I built out a pair of recent websites, including a few code examples, to show how the HTML and CSS fit together, and how I balance the seemingly incompatible worlds of mobile-first and IE8.

How are open source CMSes like Microsoft enterprise software?

Aside from the fact that both topics would put the average blog reader to sleep before the end of the first…

OK, now that they’re asleep, let’s talk. Throughout most of my career, open source software and Microsoft’s (or, really, any software behemoth’s) enterprise “solutions” have seemed diametrically opposed. But the more I think about the situation, I begin to find some startling similarities, at least in their implementation (and reasons for said implementation), if not in their actual structure and licensing.

If you’re the one person (besides me) who’s spent any significant amount of time reading this blog, you probably know two things: 1) I don’t like Microsoft, and 2) I don’t like Drupal. So these are the objects of my scorn in today’s post as well, although the problems I’m describing can be generalized, I think, to the broader sectors of the software industry that they represent.

When I worked in the corporate world, I resented Microsoft’s dominance across the board from operating systems to desktop software to enterprise systems. It just seemed that most of their tools weren’t really that good, and eventually I began to realize that the reason they were successful was that Microsoft’s customers were not the end users, but rather the IT managers who made purchasing decisions. These decisions were largely based on their own knowledge and experience with Microsoft’s software (to the detriment of other, possibly superior options), but also (I believe cynically) to preserve their own jobs and those of their staffs. Microsoft’s systems require(d?) constant maintenance and support. Not only did this mean bigger IT staffs on the corporate payroll, but it meant lots of highly paid “consulting” firms whose sole job was to promote and then support the sales and implementation of Microsoft products.

In the indie developer world, where I now reside, the culture and software platforms are different, but perhaps not as different as they seem. Apple’s computers dominate the desktops in small studios, and the tabletops in coffeehouses where freelancers can frequently be spotted hunched over their MacBooks hard at work while sipping lattes and meeting (usually a little too loudly) with clients. And open source software dominates at the server level.

But just like Microsoft’s platforms, I think most open source software just isn’t really very good. And the problem, once again, is the customer (or… well… whatever you call the person who makes the decisions when selecting a free product). It seems that the end user experience is rarely given much priority when most open source software is being designed and developed. Part of the problem is a lack of direct contact between the development teams and those end users (or, to be honest, even between the geographically scattered members of the development teams themselves). Devs don’t really know what end users want or need. They only know what they want or need, along with what’s been submitted to their bug trackers.

It’s not that these devs are bad people, or bad at what they do. There’s just a disconnect between coder and user, and as a result the goal of building good software isn’t met.

So, why do independent developers still use tools that are not really the best for their clients? Again, cynically, I wonder sometimes if job security isn’t a factor. It’s a lot easier to build something that works, but that requires indefinite, ongoing attention and support, than to build something that is flawless, that you can hand off to your client and never touch again. It’s easier… and it provides built-in job security.

Now, I’m not perfect, and I’m not above all of this. There is no such thing as flawless software, and I have ongoing support contracts with some of my bigger clients. But I’m proud to say that’s mostly because I’m constantly building new sites for them, or building functional enhancements onto the sites they already have, rather than doing endless bug fixes and technical support because the tools I’ve sold them are too confusing or simply don’t work right. Sure, the bug fixes and tech support do happen. But the tools — primarily WordPress and cms34, my own CMS — are built much more with the end user in mind, and have managed to avoid the pitfalls that mean a guaranteed job for me at the expense of a mediocre user experience for my clients.

That’s harder, and riskier. But it’s better. I’m delivering a higher quality product to the clients, and I’m keeping my own work interesting and moving forward.

The :first-child conundrum

Update (April 24, 2024): Yeah, this is a really old post. :first-of-type has existed for years now. Maybe it even existed when I wrote this in 2012, but I wasn’t aware of it.

I like to think I’m a pretty adept CSS developer. I may not have written the book, but I have a solid understanding of CSS and can do some sophisticated things with it.

But one place I always get snagged with CSS is in using the :first-child pseudoclass. The idea behind :first-child is that you can apply different styles to the first child element inside a parent element than for the rest of the instances of that child element inside the same parent.

A way I end up wanting to use it a lot is to give the first child different margins than the rest. Maybe most of them need margin-top: 2em; for instance, but I want the first one to be flush to the top of the parent by using margin-top: 0; to override the default margin.

The full CSS might end up looking like this:

div>h2 { margin-top: 2em; }
div>h2:first-child { margin-top: 0; }

And then that would be put together with some HTML like this:

<div id=”content”>

<h2>First header</h2>
<p>This is the first paragraph!</p>

<h2>Second header</h2>
<p>And, surprise! This is the second paragraph!</p>

</div>

So far, so good. The problem is, what if you stick something else into the <div> before the first <h2> that isn’t another <h2>? Say, something like this:

<div id=”content”>

<div class=”floating_sidebar”>This should be floating to
the right of the content.</div>

<h2>First header</h2>
<p>This is the first paragraph!</p>

<h2>Second header</h2>
<p>And, surprise! This is the second paragraph!</p>

</div>

You may have guessed at this point that I’m not describing a hypothetical situation here. This is a stripped-down version of exactly what I’m building right now. The problem is, now the first <h2> is no longer the first child element of the parent <div> overall, so the :first-child CSS gets ignored.

True, it’s not the first child element, altogether, inside the parent. But it is the first <h2> child inside the parent. I can understand how, in other circumstances — say, if the inserted <div> wasn’t a float — you’d want the h2:first-child not to apply here. But in general it seems to me that if you’re specifying a tag with your :first-child, it should only matter that it’s the first tag of that type under the parent, even if there are other different tags before it.

I guess the real solution here would be to create another pseudo-class that does what I want. Now I just need to convince the standards folks and the browser makers to do that.

Note: The sample HTML was kind of a mess when I originally posted this. That’s what happens when you write a blog post in a hurry before rushing out the door for a meeting. It has now been corrected, and I made some other edits for clarity while I was at it.