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Daynotes on a budgetThe weekly diary of a PC GeekUpdated: Sunday, December 17, 2000 10:28 PM -0600 |
Monday, December 11, 2000
Good morning. Just wanted to get the change-over done before I ran off to WORK! Whoo Hooo! More later, I promise.
And yes, a new layout. Comments here, but I don't know if I can read them yet...
Did you remember THIS? Kaycee isn't a "dying child in Wisconsin" or any of those other internet myths you hear about. She's a real live human being, who is getting better, rather than worse, which is a wonderful sign, and she would like a Christmas Card from every state. Let's see what we can do, eh? Thank you VERY much...
LATER: You know, those of you who are just getting home after a hard day at work, I can finally say, once again, yeah, me too. hehehehehe... (that's a little chuckle) It's just so nice to have a job...
And boy, did I miss some fun today... Before I go on about my day, let's put the cap on last week, and the discussion on message boards.
My good friend J.H. Ricketson started this with a simple pronouncement of S.O.P. for him, which is most certainly his prerogative. Phil Hough then explained why message boards are a good thing for some. Then, two prime users of the technology, Dr. Keyboard and Robert Bruce Thompson, made it clear why they do it (Dr. K here, and RBT here).
Message boards are great. E-mail's one of those things where two people can play verbal tennis, and it's fun. Message boards are where everyone can get into the act. Message boards CAN be a bright royal pain in terms of finding what you need, but both Chris and Bob have clean, well-organized systems which are easy to find things on.
JHR's got a point, and I do appreciate it. I'm very disgusted with the "targeted marketing" done by organizations like doubleclick and others. That said, the other part of this is that I'm directly benefiting from their behavior because this site is hosted free, and the folks at Spaceports are getting paid through the clicks you make on the ads on this page (but please, don't click on them because I'm encouraging you to do so. That would be against the rules of the site as I understand them, and that's a big problem for those folks here at Spaceports... I don't get it either, folks. I'm just posting here). But then again, I never promised to make sense of all of this... I'm a walking contradiction, have been since about fifteen months from birth (yeah, I know, slow learner, I've gotten better since then).
But Mr. Thompson and Dr. Keyboard, and others who use message boards are trying to make the best use of their time. Frankly, while Chris Ward-Johnson knows a heck of a lot about computers (and may well know more than me, which should give some of you pause), I find him far more entertaining when he's discussing his latest trip to the markets in the towns near where he lives, and I enjoy that almost more than his technical expertise. And I'm dead-solid certain that neither of them would expose you or I to those scum-sucking spammers. They're at least as concerned about your privacy as you are.
Not that I don't value his technical knowledge, too, mind you (should he stop by for another read instead of putting out his column ;-).
But I think I've made my position about as clear as I can (clear as mud, yes, I hear you). I've got ambivalent feelings leaning both ways. JHR's entitled to his opinions, as are we all. And any time a smart feller like JHR chooses to sit by the side and watch, rather than participate, we all lose a little.
Nuff. We'll hit that big silver lever on the back here, and away we send this little tempest down the tubes.
As to how my day went, dearie? My head hurts, my eyes feel like they've been sanded with 600-grit sandpaper (auto-body-grade, I guess), and my brain is really, really full. It's pretty amazing what a little cold weather does to one, eh? ;~) (that's a runny nose, there)...
Actually, the weatherfolk last night and this morning pointed out that we've gone about 47 months and had only three below-zero high temperature days. That's very very unusual. I remember about ten years ago we had a stretch where we were below zero for almost a full week. I think that's where I started gaining about 60 pounds of insulation... That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
But yes, the aches and pains are partially from the new job. I'm a "software engineer" in the company, responsible for supporting the in-house network, which consists of about four servers (at the moment), and also responsible for helping the real programmers figuring things out. This is going to be very educational.
I was thinking about it on the way home (there's another letter I should write to Dick Day - took me almost fifty minutes to get home tonight; I can't blame all of it on our esteemed senator from Owatonna (</sarcasm>) but I'd sure like to). I've been in companies that develop and deliver "solutions" to clients. I've been in companies that implement those solutions. And you know what? I really like the develop/deliver side of the equation. I just love looking at cool stuff.
I'll be honest. I'd had some exposure to CRM software two jobs back. I'd had more at the last place I was at, but the app there was a home-grown conglomeration that should have been thrown out, but wasn't. But my experience with the software I'm working on now is really a WOW experience. It's very cool, very flexible, and very easy to understand at the fundamental level. Then again, I'm a bit goofy in the head, so you'll have to take my word for it (unless you want to buy a CRM package, in which case you can e-mail me and I'll put you in contact with the sales staff </Commercial>).
Today's moral of the story is "be careful what you wish for." I left the old place, leaving behind two powerful laptops with lots of bells and whistles. I've got my pick of five, now, including one with DVD drive. (Chuckle, giggle, chortle). Plus there's a tower as a test server I've got to work with. I've got a "cube" that's about half the size of my apartment - yup, all for me. I've also got three phones (uh, oh... That's not too good). Had to scrounge up a chair, but that's OK.
And the funny part was that SWMBO and I passed the old workplace on the way in this morning. I found my floor (it's a fifteen story building), and found my old office. Still dark. hmmmm.... That's odd. Though I could also see the building from my new office. That's the last time I look back, I promise... except for occasional visits for lunch, I think...
But that was the only sour note on a very good day. I learned a lot, saw a lot, and have the potential to do so much more.
But now, I'm going to watch Linus. When I was in college, a good friend of mine, Bill Weyandt, wrote an article in the Campus Ministry Newsletter about what really brought out the meaning of Christmas for him. Others mentioned regional or family traditions, but Bill reminded all of us of Linus' speech near the end of the Peanuts Christmas special.
She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them at the inn.
There were shepherds in the fields, tending their flocks by night. The angels of the Lord appeared around them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were sore afraid. The angel said to them "Fear not! For I bring you tidings of great joy. For unto you this day is born in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. Let this be a sign unto you; in a manger you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes."
Suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and singing "Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to all men."
Linus reminds some of us of the reason we celebrate the season. For some it's a chance to mow down reindeer with cutting edge weaponry, for others a chance to exchange gifts, others light candles and celebrate for "eight crazy nights", as Adam Sandler tells us, and for still others, it's the opportunity to get drunk and chase reindeer. We all mark the season in our own ways, but Bill reminded me of a far more innocent time.
Ach, well. Now that I've gone over just about all of the fun stuff, I'm sure some of you are wondering about my rant at Hallmark last evening. I'm an old softie. I admit it. I don't like it some times when my emotions get the best of me, but you know what? I'd rather live that way than locked up behind layer after layer of personal protection. I think I probably get more joy out of life that way. But, as noted previously, to each their own.
What upset me about Hallmark, though? Simple. That commercial I mentioned last night was only about the third in a series that I saw in last night's special that really tugged at the heartstrings. And with two children of my own, I do so want to establish traditions of our own. Yet I'm torn by the fact that some Christmas, far far sooner than I'd like, I'm no longer going to have a choice on where to spend Christmas. And that's just something that I'm going to have to deal with.
Tuesday, December 12, 2000
BRRRRRRRrrrrrr.... That sucks. This morning it was about ten below when we left home. Tonight when we returned home, we were in the same boat. Brrrrrrr....
Anyway. Yet another day at work (boy do I love saying that). Today I finally got logged into the network (bit of a problem with the paperwork, really), and started getting from point A to point B. Also got my first couple of problems tossed at me, and that's going to be fun. No, really - we're having some issues with replication, and I get to try to figure it out. That's actually going to be fun to dig into the guts of the stuff and see how it works and how to make it work better.
But elsewhere, tonight was Eldest Daughter's Christmas Concert. First, Third, Sixth, and Eighth grades got together with the beginning band and advanced band for a concert program.
First of all, it was nice that the Fire Marshal was there tonight watching his kid. At least, he'd better have been, otherwise the school was probably in violation of many fire codes. I think the gym/auditorium is rated for 800 occupancy, and I'm thinking we had probably close to 1200.
And I should take a moment right now to say "Mom and Dad, I'm sorry. Very, very sorry." I, fortunately for them, couldn't carry a tune even in a bucket with a lid, and so didn't do anything serious with the choir. Band, however, was a different story. I first tried to talk my parents into the accordian (Thanks, folks, for keeping me from that torture), then I tried the cello (screech, groan, you betcha), before finally finding a home with the drumsticks.
When you're in band, you hear the improvement on a daily (or weekly) basis, and it sounds pretty good (comparitively) when you finally get to the concert. But when you're a parent, you walk in, sit down, and... Well, if your child is in band, they did quite well. Actually, they did sound very good for the ages they were.
But it's painful as a drummer (you are never a former drummer, you always end up beating on something), when you find the percussion section ending a measure ahead of the rest of the band. And the trombones seemed to be at times in a different key.
That said, however, the kids really sounded good. I'm actually looking forward to the spring concert to see how much they've improved.
But it was the choral portion we really enjoyed... Rhiannon did a couple songs with the first and third grades, and then returned at the end for two more closing numbers. It was fun.
And, of course, the King of the Mucus People, my very own son, met a young fellow sitting next to us and managed to chatter through most of the program. Ah, to be four and completely unaware of over a thousand people near you while you hold a conversation at the top of your lungs (at times). Kids, sheesh.
Ach, well. Onward and upward. We moved the old car indoors this evening through muscle power and some careful pushing and shoving with the new vehicle... And tomorrow we'll try to start it in the morning. If things go well, I'll be able to drive again. If they do not, I won't.
And you know, watching television this evening, listening to the interpretations of the news media regarding the United States Supreme Court, it's refreshing to know that even very intelligent people supposedly at the top of their profession can still punt the occasional decision and say "ah, what the hell."
Although I did just get word that there's a scheduled revote for Florida, among other places, regarding this election. Yup, as I suspected... Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004. Hope you're schedule's clear. ;-)
And Dan? Don't ask me, man, I'm still trying to explain why I'm getting Working Mother magazine in my name. Free subscription, apparently good through 2006. I don't know about where you are, but I thought "John" was pretty unambiguously male. But what the heck do I know...
Wednesday, December 13, 2000
Ooof. Today was my first serious exposure to Microsoft SQL Server in a production environment. There's a lot, and I mean A LOT, to learn. Therefore, a short post this evening.
I noticed Mr. Thompson has the same problem I do with the blasted media. When I was a kid, the "news reporter" was a very esteemed individual who delivered fact after fact after fact. No opinion, no "analysis," just the freaking facts. Remember people like John Chancellor? Walter Cronkhite?
Last night, they broke into the evening's programming, and, from what I saw on NBC, Tom Brokaw threw the coverage to two fellows in coats, standing there, looking at books. They were in the process of trying to read the decision of the Supreme Court. No reporting, just a couple of guys, in coats, standing in front of very bright lights, saying "uh, 5-4, 7-2, no recount, tho this one says there should be, uh, and then, uh..."
Good grief. Thank God this is finally over.
Now I'm off to write something intelligent for work - seems I know more than I thought I did... I've got people outside firewalls trying to ping servers behind firewalls. Uh, only one problem. They're trying to get to a server with an IP of 192.168.1.221. Doesn't matter if I give you the right IP. The 192.168.1 range isn't delivered - anywhere - on the rest of the internet. It's solely for small (sub 250 machine, preferably) networks. Now, to explain that in short, simple sentences... uh, I think I just did. ;-)
(now, that's short, sweet, and to the point. I guess Mr. Syroid's rubbing off on me, and vice versa ;-).
Thursday, December 14, 2000
Who, me? My brain hurts, man. It just hurts.
The cause of today's difficulties? Microsoft SQL Server. Specifically, going from a general understanding of SQL Server and it's overall function and operation to replication.
Replication is a method whereby you have two databases - one's a copy of the other. Let's say one's on a server, and the other's on a client. We'll simplify things. The client's a laptop. The laptop is in the hands of a salesman. The salesman takes the laptop with on client visits. The salesman types notes, takes orders, updates information, all that good stuff.
Meantime, back at the home office, the salesman's client calls through the standard order line, and orders thirteen hundred standard widgets. The salesman, in his black bag, has a signed commitment for six thousand new super-widgets, which is also entered on his laptop system.
The salesman dials in to the server, and uploads his changes. In the left lane goes the six thousand super widgets, whizzing up to the server. In the right lane, coming back, is the thirteen hundred standard widget order. The salesman has both in his database, so he can call the customer back and confirm that they want a total of seventy-three hundred of the things; that's why the salesman gets his commission.
Replication allows all of these widget orders to happen. At least, the way it's supposed to happen. The problem comes in when Mr. Salesman, running late, pulls the plug on his laptop, including the modem line. Drops the connection, and the replication hasn't been completed.
Or, what if the salesman finds out that the company's moving, and he enters the new corporate address into his client? And the billing department notifies the salesman's home office that the billing address will be changing, and to a different address than the one the salesman has? That's called a conflict. And those are where we have to figure out who wins, who loses, and what happens with the wreckage.
Or, in my case, an ouch. You see, conflicts come from many different sources. My job, as software engineer (that's still a too-cool title, you ask me) is to be Mr. Replication. I'm going to learn this stuff inside and out. And hopefully not inside-out.
And Dr. Pournelle has one that had me laughing out loud... I guess Bobby Lee's sense of humor hasn't deteriorated too much. Hit the link above and scroll up.
Friday, December 15, 2000
Well well well well well. He said, taking a deep breath, and prepared to plunge off in all directions. Let's see where he goes, shall we?
AND WE'RE OFF : From the "Personal Experience" Department - if you've got AT&T for long distance, check your phone bills. This company is so large and so convolute that they quite often cannot find the left hand with the right, let alone their collective asses with a flashlight, GPS, and six-man scouting party.
In My Humble Opinion (me, humble? Yah, right), these people should be drawn, quartered, impaled as Vlad the Impaler chose to do to his victims, and a half-hundred other brutal tortures... What did the giant conglomerate do to earn my eternal wrath this time? Oh, not much. Just overcharge me for long distance. Many, many moons ago (about four years to the day) we received a check from AT&T, promising to pay us $100 for switching to their service. As I was making half of what I am now, and my wife was at about two-thirds, plus I had a new son, born three weeks early, and cash was tight, a $100 check in the mail was nothing to sneeze at.
So they earned my business. But this week, after several months of rising long distance bills and falling usage, we closely examined the long distance bill. AT&T "Lost" our calling plan, and instead of paying twelve cents a minute or less, we were paying thirty-seven. Thieves. Scum-sucking swamp rats.
Okay. That diatribe's out of the way. Now, can anyone explain to me why someone would imagine themselves worth twenty-five million dollars a year for playing a game? Frankly, I'd be embarrassed to make that much money. That's just disgusting.
And then, we veer off in another direction... We were all set to pass on the south side of a major winter storm, and get some light rain, a little wind, and not much else. However, as a huge shock to most of the weather people here, the storm turned south, and now we're set for the north side. They're talking some unknown amount of snow, somewhere above three inches. That's not much. But there's the fifty below windchills, combined with the blowing and drifting, which could shut things down. And there's also the twelve-below temp range we're expecting to see Tuesday morning. Cold enough to freeze Rudolph's nose.
Ah, well. Completed my first week of work today at my new job with a potluck Christmas luncheon. Nice outfit - two turkeys for thirteen people. Gotta love that.
So, after we did that, I went out to a customer site and did a lot of scratching my head. "Geeee, I dunno."
Had a very strange deja-vu flashback, as well. On the way to the customer site this afternoon, we passed two office buildings where I put in a combined nine and a half years. The weird flashback occurred when we passed the building where my two-employers back place is. Back five, six, seven years ago I was the fellow dealing directly with the customers, attempting to solve problems with networks, computers, and the applications we supported; I would occasionally call on the high-forehead types from our programming/MIS department for severe help with major issues.
And there I was, being the high-forehead fellow behind the more experienced fellow, and he was hoping I could solve his problems. I had some ideas, but nothing really leapt out at me. I hope something more occurs when I review the notes later this weekend.
Although I thought it was kinda funny this morning. I spent yesterday afternoon learning how to build databases, create links between them, populate them, and replicate them. On Monday morning of this week, I was building a database in Access to track computer information. This morning? I was building a database in SQL Server to track computer information.
Once a geek, always a geek, you ask me. Some of us just enjoy creating databases. I'm not sure if there's a vaccine for that, yet.
Ach well. If She Who Must Be Obeyed will get off the phone yet this evening, I'll upload this, do a quick surf-around to make sure things are working and such, and toddle off to bed. But before I do, I've got to check around for Duck recipes. Standing in the grocery store tonight, we looked at the turkeys, avoiding the one kind with a recall on it, looking at the other kind we'd had for thanksgiving, but they just weren't big enough, and then, we saw the ducks. We'd tried a duck a few years ago and it just didn't work out. So now we're going to try it again. If I can't find anything useful in the real world, we'll have to try that well-known duck fancier, Dr. Keyboard.
And before you start snickering, I make no claims about the good Doctor's behavior around the fowl; I'm going by what he writes on his site. I'm thinking if he was in some way involved with a duck, I'm fairly certain he wouldn't eat the poor thing.
However, the major disaster of the evening continues to grow. After seven full years of service, our big old Graco stroller - the one that has hauled Rhiannon from the month after she was born, through Jack, and countless loads of groceries, laundry, and GOK what else, finally broke this evening on the way back from downstairs. Jack ran up alongside me as I pushed it (with about 80 pounds of groceries in it) and shoved it sideways into the wall. I couldn't stop in time, and the right wheel hit the wall and snapped off. Seems the Graco company has no web site (the only thing I find under graco.com is a fluids company of some sort). Looks like we're in the market for a stroller, now, too. Sheesh.
Saturday, December 16, 2000
ooof. Talk about abuse... Today was "start shopping". We need to finish yet this week. Last night was groceries, today was the dreaded Burnsville Center trip.
Of course, there was the visit with Santa, along with plenty of wandering, shopping, and "gee, I dunno, what do you think?" The good news for many of you is that I did pass up both the red lame boxer shorts and the green metallic shirt. All together now ... "EEEEEEEEEEwwwwwwwww." Thanks.
Presents have been acquired for SWMBO, at great cost - well, for us - I went a whopping $12 over budget counting both presents, but hey, it's Christmas, right?
But 'nuff 'bout 'dat.
I finished my fourth or fifth read-through today of Gene Kranz's book "Failure Is Not An Option". Regrettably, this is Kranz's only book - I found his writing gripping and could almost smell the cigarette smoke as he continued from Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo.
As a kid, I was always fascinated by the space program. I can remember Christmas of 1968, when we had Apollo 8 circling the moon, and I remember hearing the creation story (which had been read to me from other versions) coming down from nearly a quarter-million miles away. I learned terms like perigee, apogee, and Lunar Orbital Insertion. I learned the Lunar Module (not Lunar Expedition Module, but LM) had two parts, a powerful (for the time) computers, and a limited life - once it left the earth, near the top of a 363-foot high stack of explosives, mechanics, and cutting-edge technology, it never came back, because it had skin thinner than mine in many spots.
As a kid, I could remember one of my long-term goals was to be the first man to set foot on Jupiter. I'm fairly certain most anyone will step aside for me to claim the role, should I insist - however, if Arthur C. Clarke is right, I'm more likely to be the first human DNA to be smeared across the surface of an earth-sized diamond. No thanks, folks.
But the desire to be in space is still there. Kranz's longing to return the country to a prominent place in the exploration of space is palpable. I realize that there seems to be little reason for us to explore space, but have you ever looked at what the space program really brought us? I know that there's been more than thirty years since Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, and marked the end of the American interest in "getting" to the moon.
But did you know that every single dollar invested in the space program gained back directly SEVEN dollars in economic benefits to this country? And did you know that the knowledge we've gained over the space program is, even today, still being studied, new information is learned, and students have the opportunity to look at what NASA and others have done?
Sheesh. For want of about a dollar a person a year, we could easily have an orbital station, a moon base, both occupied, both manufacturing super-pure drugs, silicon wafers for computer chips, and so forth... 'nuff... I'm liable to burst something here if I keep going on.
Gene Kranz was a giant in the field of manned space flight. He also understood and developed procedures manuals and guidelines for sending men to orbit the earth, and to the surface of the moon. This man is enormously talented and a very entertaining author.
But that's the end of that pontification...
I awoke this morning to perhaps an inch of snow along the balcony railing, and said to myself "well, that's not too bad." Uh, then I got outside, and oh, my. We had probably four inches come down, and then winds picked up. While wandering Burnsville (renamed henceforth as "Rut-ville" - you'll see soon) today, it's pretty clear that our civic services are stretched past the breaking point.
Well, what would you call it? Two or three inches of snow in EVERY street, piling in intersections, and in all the driving around today, I saw not one single plow on the streets. I saw three different plows on the freeway, but nothing on the city streets. I'm pretty sure the civic services are past their breaking point, though, because the folks at Burnsville Center were more than able to clear the parking lots and keep their roadways around the center clear down to the tar. Hmmmm? Oh, sure, it's a commercial thing, but let's remember we're obviously going through some sort of civic crises. That's got to be it - I'm pretty sure it started about a week or so before we moved into Burnsville from Richfield in 1990.
Although a crises that lasts ten years isn't a crises, is it? I think that's quite possibly, in my humble, ignorant opinion, more "permanent mismanagement." Ach well.
At least Colin Powell's got a job. I'm sure people will complain that we've elevated a soldier to the position of leading our foreign policy. Sure, he's unqualified for the job. About as unqualified as anyone else who's served in it. A soldier doesn't have the opportunity to ignore foreign policy like most of us here at home do. Why's that, you ask? Well, last I checked there's an awful lot of our soldiers scattered around this globe, doing all sorts of duties many of us would prefer not to think about. A soldier must take orders, but he can't help but think about what the foreign powers might do to cause him to be put in harm's way in the service of his country.
Powell's likely the right man for the job. Someone with a good head on his shoulders, and a reminder that if negotiation and diplomacy don't work, well, we've still got lots of people in uniform.
At least Dubyah shows some good sense about the people he's selecting. We can hope...
And a final Oh, Nuts. Looks like my alma mater hosed up a chance to win the NCAA Division III championship. But can I find confirmation of it on-line? Hell, no. Ah, but the TV did. Oh well. John Gagliardi is only 36 wins away from the all-time winningest coach in history. And you should really check him out. The guy's very unusual, but then again, most people that are usually successful are a bit unusual.
Sunday, December 17, 2000
I mentioned we visited Santa, yesterday, didn't I? Forgot the important part. And since we wrote the holiday letter last night, of course, that picture goes into the Christmas cards, along with other picture, and the annual letter. Sheesh. Yes, I do write an annual letter to stuff into the Christmas Cards. Why not? We don't get to see some of these people at all during the course of a year, and it's good to let them know what we're up to and have done. Call it tacky, I don't care. If they don't want it, they can pitch it. I love reading about what all my friends and relatives are up to; then again, I'm a daynoter, and for me, every day is a holiday letter, no? ;-)
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