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Sunday, 11 February, 2001 at
10:47 PM -0600
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The weekly Diary of a PC Geek |
Monday, February 5, 2001
The good news today is that I finally got replication going at the customer site I've been trotting back and forth to since mid-December. However, it's pretty clear that, if I'd have the decency to do away with my scruples, etc., I could be making a literal ton of money of a lot of people.
Let's put it this way. Customer A hires Technician B to install packages C, D, E, and F. D is the critical piece, and E and F are the pieces which need to be there to make it all work. Technician shows up when Customer A's smart fellow is not there, installs package C, does a slap-and-tickle, and runs off.
I arrive on Friday, and find myriad problems, including a corrupted database. We were able to salvage the data from it, after quite a few hours work, got the customer back up and running. When I finally determined the problem, I reinstalled the software and configured replication on one of the clients (instead of the five I'd planned), and told the customer what had happened. I didn't tell him not to write the check to the chowderhead who pretended to do the work. I figure that if I point fingers at that moron, it's not going to gain me any brownie points.
And
THEN, for some reason I have yet to fathom, Windows 2000 Server doesn't want to
play nice with the rest of the computers on the network. It won't join the
domain, doesn't want to play, and I'm at a loss as to why. I guess I
should probably read the blasted manual... Oh, yeah, we didn't get one. Oh
well. I'm going to reinstall again tomorrow, and this time ignore the
networking stuff until after the install's completed. I thought it might
be that the blasted server's assuming it should assume a BDC/PDC type of role in
the network (yes, I know that with Active Directory there is no longer a PDC or
BDC, but you know what I mean). But there's no obvious way to set that up
when you start the whole bloody two-hour install routine (did I mention I've got
only a dual-speed CD-ROM in the machine until I get a faster one back from
Dell?).
So, that was work. At home, things are similarly discombobulated. Ann came home early today, as she didn't feel well, and conked out in the bedroom. I came home about an hour and a half later, with the children, who were, believe it or not, remarkably quiet (and yes, I tried to get a few more commas in there, but ran out of options). Started making my special burgers, and lo and behold, just as I'm about to toss them on the grill, she comes out. Figures.
She reminds me, in her unique style, that whenever she gets sick I tend to cook hamburgers. I'm not sure if there's supposed to be a connection there or if there's some other problem, but I don't know. I guess not.
Before I forget, I should mention my latest weather-based theory. I believe that we're just a month ahead of our normal winter weather. December was blasted cold, and most of it was below zero. January was warm, some thawing, and some slop. So far February is turning into one of those snowy months. I think we're just a month early.
And, as I mentioned Brownie points earlier, here's a good one. The young lady you see here sold one hundred thirty-four boxes of cookies. That's right - her original quota was fifty boxes. She exceeded it by 168%. On the one hand, I'm very very proud. She was the one who made the phone calls, and came up with the idea to put the slips on the counter at Daycare.
On the other hand, a budding salesperson in the family, especially as I'm primarily a technical type, is certainly of concern to me. This could lead to a long-term communications gap.
And speaking of communications gaps, I've discovered yet another problem with getting older. Way back around puberty, I discovered the "joys" of unexpected hair growth. You know, the "what the ... hair there?"
This weekend, the pigeons came home to roost, and now they're in my freaking ears. Along with completely unanticipated hair growth that's going on in my ears, along the bridge of my nose, and a number of other places which, frankly, we don't know one another well enough to discuss yet. Good grief.
And finally, for those of you who think Good Thoughts for others, think them for the Good Doctor - he's stranded, in a French Ski resort, with no vehicle (last I checked), and, to top it all off, it's apparently school holidays or something. I'm thinking that if he's lucky, he'll ski over a few of the little monkeys in his way and end up making some gourmet dish out of the leftovers. Although I'm still waiting for pictures of Daisy on skis. Or, come to think of it, the good Doctor...
Oh well. Could be worse. I'm trying to get my monkeys to go to sleep so I can. I suppose bourbon in their dinner drinks is probably against the law somewhere. Though I'm sorely tempted to try. Oh, never mind, mom, just kidding.
And finally - HOLY CRAP. This is the sort of thing that really irritates me.
Tuesday, February 6, 2001
And on today's episode of Geeks with Tools...
Okay, let's back up. Today was a weird one... After tearing into another problem I need to deal with, we got a call this morning from the shipping company.
"Yeah, you got a shipping dock?"
"Uh, no, why?"
"We got a 463 pound (210 Kg) package here. How do you propose we get that to youse?" (I swear, he said
"youse").
"If you come in on the south side, we've got a flat entryway right up to the freight elevator."
"Good. Be there this afternoon."
So, all morning we speculated. What could be shipped from the home office, without warning, weighing that much, and delivered today? I was thinking either a really big battery backup or a new server or three. I can dream, can't I? Other guesses were a new refrigerator, a box of old office equipment, a new printer, a statue (don't ask), and a desk.
So, at about 3 pm the delivery guys arrive. They can't get the box through either one of our standard-sized front doors. Lovely.
So they back up, dig and scratch for a while (it being non-baseball season, most men feel they need to dig and scratch here rather than watch it on television), and then decide to spin the box. And there we go - it just exactly fits through the door, with about four inches of room on the top, and exactly enough room to get one piece of paper inside the door jamb - not one on either side, but one on one side only. Talk about smart planning (or very, very lucky).
After the delivery guys leave, we look for a packing slip on the outside. Sure enough, there it is. Of course, it says two hundred pounds, $10,000 value, and that it's "Office Furniture" - yeah, right, and it's been misaddressed to us instead of the Clintons. Did I mention it's about the size of a large refrigerator?
Since the boss and literally all major players are out of the office, we're left with two tech support, one network guy (me), and two programmers. The two programmers immediately grab persuaders (never mind what we're doing with a couple of one-pound hammers in the office, though I wouldn't mind a "Death Stick" Hammer). They start pounding on the box, while I, a man of limited, yet significant, construction experience, prefer to first chop through the steel bands around the box.
Once removed, I proceed onto the sides (the programmers not yet using their keys in the right way), and pried off the side. After some banging away at the next side to fall, we finally get in to find that its...
A 32" TV with stand. Lovely. Must be the video-conferencing stuff that they were getting rid of in L.A. Whoo - hoo. blah.
Or, as I told the programmers later (after cleaning up and leaving two of the four sides still standing - and the bubble-wrap still around the TV), "Only a couple of computer geeks would be disappointed with a big-screen television."
So it goes.
The rest of the day was taken up with figuring out the ins and outs of NETSTAT.EXE and how to automate it - little tip for you - if you're thinking of testing it, do not use Windows 98 as your testbed. I'd throw it into a loop (it can do that - basically constant reporting mode), and go to do something else - whereupon it barfs up a "this program has performed an illegal operation..." Yeah, right - like it's about to spill the beans on why I can't get through firewalls.
And yes, I'm doing this for legitimate research, not hacking. Though I could use a hacker or two right about now...
Tonight has been gobbled up with the Eldest's swimming lessons, my training on the heavy-lifting machines at the Y (no, I don't know why they only offer training sessions at 6:30 and 8:30 pm on weeknights, either), and getting ready for tomorrow.
Although I'm betting that if Mr. Walder had a hammer like this one, Ray, Winky, and the boys would certainly hop far more quickly to it than they have.
There's a thought, eh? A computer type walking around with a hammer that says "Death Stick Titanium" on the handle. That would get the DFWI award from me, man...
Off to beat my body in the pursuit of the fountain of youth - or maybe just the fountain of sustained middle-age, I guess. Behave yourselves... Someone's got to bail me out.
Later: Oh, ouch. Oh man that was stupid. Got the eldest to the pool, came home, made myself an omelet, cleaned up the dishes (did anyone else chuckle at the SETI stuff on JAG tonight?), put the kids to bed, and went back to the Y for a "life-center" workout. Computerized machines which allow me to exercise with weights. Oh, that was just so stupid. And it's not even tomorrow yet, wherein they're promising us a snowstorm the likes of which we haven't seen in ten years. Figures. Cold air from up north, low pressure from the west, and gulf moisture. You know what that's called? That's called "Thank goodness I haven't got a driveway to shovel because I'm already too sore to do it."
Dan? About that trip to go see snow? If you'll send me an address, I'll ship you and Shelley and the boys a couple hundred tons of the white... stuff. And I'm pretty sure a "ravine" is one of those ad-words (Adjective? Adverb? At this time of night, I'm lucky I can spell it) that applies to a lunatic. You know, a ravine lunatic. That's me.
Didja ever notice "snow" is a four-letter word? Just checking.
Alright, alright, time for my medication. At least I think so - she's standing in that doorway with that glare again. Apparently I'm typing too loudly. G'nite.
Wednesday, February 7, 2001
Just ONCE I wish things would work out the way they're planned. Just once...
Last week, the customer I was struggling with was giving me fits. On Monday, it looked like things were finally going in the right direction, and I left there after I was successful in getting things going. I was pretty happy about it, until this morning. I found out one of the essential pieces of software wasn't properly installed. Since they were on my way home, I volunteered to stop by and do this "quick procedure". Yeah, right.
I'll be back there in the morning (weather allowing) to finish the "quick procedure." Gave it an hour and a half today, which was far more than the fifteen minutes I was told it would take. Looks like I'll be looking at another couple of hours tomorrow. Lovely.
Yes, I said "weather allowing". This afternoon, when I left the office, I brushed about four inches of snow off the car. Tonight, when I left the customer site, after having been there an hour and a half, I brushed another two inches off the car. And it's still snowing. I've heard estimates of up to fourteen inches today - thought I doubt we'll get that, we had between six and eight on the ground in the parking lot when I got home tonight. Pretty nice coating over the old slop...
Except for one small problem. We're going to have more snow tomorrow, and wind, too. Isn't that going to be fun?
Oh, well. Other than that today, I spent most of my day delving back
into my old batch file tricks. Thanks to Bob Walder's suggestion in
monitoring tools, I fired up Netstat... And boy, it's useful... If
you can filter the data.
Details? You want details? I'll try to pull some together tomorrow.
In the mean time, I'm going to go watch some television, and go to bed. I need mindless diversions. I need them badly.
Though I do have to thank Dan Seto - he made my day with this picture here... Nice to know it's still green somewhere...
Thursday, February 8, 2001
Oh, all right. Just the vital stats - we got about twelve inches of snow up here on Buck Hill, and I swept off about three inches more when I got into my car tonight (after a morning stop that should have been fifteen minutes last night and ended up taking five and a half hours of my time between yesterday and today, so my car only sat in the lot from 11:30 to 4:30), and by the time I got home, there was another four inches in the parking lot. I'll get some pictures on Saturday, I promise - they're plowing the lot tomorrow.
Today was spent tearing through several megs worth of captured data from the netstat program, where I had to find what ports opened when. It was rather difficult, but at 3:00 we had a conference call with a very smart client, and our other, larger, but more annoyed client talked to someone who'd opened up a firewall for us to run through... And I think I got about two days worth of jumpstart on this project. Now to set up the lab and see what sort of Dr. Frankenstein's monster I can create...
And that was how my day went. Didn't get much reading or daynotes visiting done, but I'm working on commenting up the batch file I've automated. You'll love it when I get it done. It's a partial stroll down memory lane, and a cheap way to get around buying a sniffer for simple things.
And yes, I'm the rat Mr. Walder speaks of. Fortunately for me, I live in an apartment. And I have no worries whatsoever about going through the hell he is - I'll likely be shot first. My wife is nowhere near as calm and patient as Lynne is. She's got kids.
Yippie Skippie it's...Friday!, February 9, 2001
The Funnies
The funnies coming from elsewhere have been pathetically lame this week, so it looks like I'm going to have to dip into my store of jokes. I know three, and only two of them start with "Knock knock"... I've written the joke below in "Minnesodan" and then translated for those who don't speak my native tongue. Fortunately, now, as I approach with ever-increasing speed that period once referred to as "dotage" and now more quaintly referred to as "lack of immaturity", I can point you all to the movie store with the instructions to "go rent and watch FARGO." Yup, dat's how some of us here talk, donchaknow.
MINNESODAN
Sven and Ole wendt Deer Huntin in da nort woods dere. Sven wass OK, but Ole, he got so dat he couldn't poop. One day Ole Finally had ta poop, but when he wendt runnin down dat trail dere, he forgot about da low branch dere, and knocked himself out cold, donchaknow. So Sven comes back wid his deer, see, and puts all da guts down on da groundt right behind Ole. A liddle while lader, Ole comes back to da camp and Sven asks him "Ole, why you so pale?" Ole says "I had to poop so bad I pooped my guts out. But by da grace of Got and dese two fingers, I got 'em all back in dere."
TRANSLATED
Seems that once again, in the fall, Ole and Sven had decided to go hunting with a couple of other fellows. They went up into the north woods to the hunting cabin. Sven felt pretty good to get out to nature again, but Ole's slightly more delicate constitution caused him to suffer some irregularity, and he was constipated.
Many days Sven spent in the woods, tramping the paths of dry, brightly colored leaves, watching for his quarry, while back at Deer Camp his friend Ole sat, constipated and alone, waiting for the moment when he could happily run to the outhouse and relieve himself of the extra burden he carried.
After four days apart, Sven saw and shot his deer, quite close to camp. He brought it back to be gutted and cleaned, and in his haste to return, he tripped over Ole, laying in the path. Ole had apparently had the good fortune to experience a "breakthrough" and was on his way to the outhouse, undoing his lower garments, not watching where he was going. He ran, full-tilt, into a low-hanging branch which clouted him back into insensibility.
Sven pondered the scene for a moment; there, in front of him, lay his friend, face down, pants around his ankles, feces all over him, unconscious, in the middle of the woods. While Sven was a God-fearing man, he also knew, full-well, that if the tables were turned, he'd like as not awake to a smile-face tattooed on each butt-cheek. If he found out before his wife noticed, it would indeed be a miracle.
So Sven knew what he had to do, and went to work. He could see the lights of the trailer as he finished his cleaning of the deer carcass, and as he laid the entrails behind Ole, he chuckled to himself. Pleased with his handywork, he left the trail and made his way to the trailer, where his friends were waiting.
Some minutes later, a shaken and pale Ole staggered into view. Looking like something a bear had chosen not to maul as he'd already done the job, Sven and the others were shocked as Ole sat, gingerly, on a stump near the fire.
The silence among the group was deafening, until one finally asked "Hey Ole, what's the matter there?"
Ole replied "I finally was able to defecate."
"Hey, that's good news" came the reply.
"Not so good" said Ole. "I managed to excrete my intestines as well. But by the grace of God and these two fingers, I got 'em all back in!"
There. That will teach you people.
Today was one of those beautiful days that makes you glad to live in a place like Minnesota. The skies finally cleared to a bright blue, the sun came out and the winds picked up a little. I wasn't feeling too well so I left work a little early. When I did, I happened to look up and the snow was blowing off the top of the building against that bright blue sky. I wish I'd have thought to bring the camera, but then again, I doubt the picture would have done the scene justice.
Yes, I left work a little early today because I felt like absolute hell. Too many weeks (pretty much since Christmas) of five hours sleep a night has finally worn me down. Came home and crashed, slept until about 8:30, got up, did a little puttering (including this), and I'm aiming for bed again before 11 pm.
Just enough time for the foolishness of above, in addition to some minor grumphing. I see via Dan's ETP site that a group of critics have taken a few potshots at Al Hawkins' "View From The Heart", another site I hit regularly. While my first inclination was to run after these putzes and point out just what pathetic types one must be to pick on someone like Al, I'm not going to do that. Yes, we've all heard both of the old lines which apply here - "Those who can, do..." and "If you can't say anything nice..."
Clearly, both of the reviewers are talentless hacks who grew, fully formed, from algae; how else would they have managed to reach this size without the influence of a mother figure? Al needs no defending from me, as he's a much better man than I am; however, the two reviewers apparently could use a little help. Oh well, if fungus like that took advice, they wouldn't be doing what they're doing now, and would instead be asking me "would you like fries with that?"
Oh well. It's certainly easy to pick on small, mindless targets with large vocabularies. Most critics are typically frustrated at their own inabilities to handle what little talent they've managed to develop.
And speaking of "what little talent" we're back to me. Just kidding... They're threatening us with that blasted cold air again; the stuff that had Siberia down at minus 96 degrees seems to have gotten lost and is reportedly heading this way again. Duck...
Though the best news of the week is that SWMBO has reviewed the Walder's kitchen selection, and has universally freed me from any sort of obligation or fear that she would covet said kitchen. Phew. Saved on that one...
Saturday, February 10, 2001
First
off, I finished up the basic commenting on the batch files I've been using all
week long, so you can see them here. You might find a few tricks in there
that might help, or not, I dunno. They're not too bad, but there's plenty
of room for refinements. In fact, I just thought up two sitting here
thinking about it.
Though if I had my druthers, I'd much rather trade places with
Tom Jones or Bob Curbeam today. The good news is that I didn't, and
Destiny's now attached to the Space Station, and we're that much closer to
having a functioning scientific platform in space. I just wish we'd moved
faster, sooner, and had more up there - that way I might have a better chance at
getting up there myself.
Oh well. At this rate, I stand about as much of a chance of getting into space as I do of getting a house in this area. I've been hearing a whole lot about the housing market getting tighter - like it isn't already bloody tight around here. But today we looked at lots that were selling for $25,000 last fall. Now, in the dead of winter, they're talking $60,000 for those same lots. Good grief. Yet another way for the various governmental agencies around here to make sure nothing gets hosed up, I guess. They're afraid that the city might well "sprawl" beyond their ability to manage. Not likely there, folks - it's on it's way to driving this area straight to the bottom of the most livable areas simply through the housing costs.
Argh. Nuff about that. Above is another shot of Buck Hill - On the left is one taken today. On the right? November 9th. See anything different? Me either. The left picture links through to a larger image behind (only 44K)... One of the nice things about a cheesy digital camera like I have - not enough resolution to make large, high-resolution images.
And as you can tell, we did a little more looking around at the houses in the Parade of homes. The more I look, the more I like this one particular builder... Unfortunately, they've got so many designs and so many models out there that it's pretty unlikely that they'd be willing to adjust a few things here and there as we'd like. Oh well. You do what you can with what you have.
And
speaking of, here's a picture I've been trying to get in daylight for some time
now... Frosted trees, I think I'll call it. Those are right
alongside the pool area here in the apartment complex. Oh stop
laughing. Yes, it's an outdoor pool, and it's usable from Memorial Day to
Labor Day. No exceptions. Hit a ninety degree day in early May,
tough. Get close to a hundred in September, tough. Pool's
closed.
And yes, I have no idea why, but if I had to guess, I'd take a shot at insurance rates, more than anything else.
Other than that, today's been pretty busy. Stops at the Library, houses, drop the eldest off at a gymnastics birthday party, get a late "lite" lunch at Byerly's, (Yes, Ma, I had the Soup and Salad. Then ruined it by having a piece of seven-layer cake. Though it was split three ways - Jack got the frosting, Ann and I split the cake). Then we picked up the kid, came home, and did laundry. And it's almost all put away already as well. So that would be a good day, would it not?
Tomorrow's plans aren't nearly so ambitious. Church, if we're lucky (we've been pretty frustrated lately - our parish has four weekend masses, at 5 Saturday, 7:30, 9:15, and 11 am on Sundays. 9:15 is VERY VERY crowded, 11 am is VERY crowded, and it's tough to concentrate when you're in an overflow room with two children in front of you eating their breakfast, the little kid behind making farting noises and giggling, and your son wanting to climb like a chimp). Then work out at the Y, then home for some form of dinner.
And somewhere in there we need to work in two movies - Mystery, Alaska and Mystery Men. Found a new way to rent videos - check out the Library. Fifty cents per movie per day. Not bad, eh?
Around the web, it looks like another slow day... except, wait a minute, what's this? The Good Doctor is back in the saddle... er, keyboard. Or Something.
You know, when the Doc sent an e-mail out to the daynoters via an alternate route, I sat there, scratching my head, and wondering just what in the hell was going on with the world - Mrs. K, whom I have not met, but have read, and read of, for nearly a year now, certainly sounds like a decent woman. Obviously, as those of us who are married know, there's a very fine line between "decent woman" and "justifiably motivated axe murderer", and while they will quite often claim "we told you so, you just weren't listening", most men will agree with me (in private, obviously) that they never saw it coming.
However, there's nothing funny about getting messages on your answering machine that some lunatic is looking to have you forcibly placed in the pine box. After hearing about that, I started doing some thinking and considering, and the good news is that my kids are safe (in a daycare that allows people to remove my children only if A) The children know them, B) they've been told in writing ahead of time the children will be taken by someone else, and C) they've checked the photo ID. My daughter is taken to school on a bus, and walked to the door of the school, where a teacher greets her. My wife? I can assure you that she can most certainly take care of herself. If you don't believe me, I suggest you try something funny near her. But before you do, I'd recommend putting a sperm donation on ice somewhere, putting your affairs in order, and canceling your life insurance. Listen, it's just plain suicide, OK? You mess with her, she's likely as not to flay you just by chewing you out. If she's got to get physical with you, well, you might as well get the deposit back on the casket, as well - you won't be needing that either.
I'm more worried about me than her. She's one tough... Well, I'll call her a Lady, which she is, but there's another word that comes to mind. And if you say it, say it with respect, OK?
At least the good news is that over in France, the nutballs can have telephones. Here, we let them wander about armed. Yeah, I know, we're supposed to stop them, but there are more holes in some of those laws than there is in Swiss cheese. Some are good and very useful. Others are a waste of paper.
Ach, well. Anyway. I'm off to bed for now, and we'll see what tomorrow might bring. Whoops, it's here already. Damn.
Sunday, February 11, 2001
Hmmm... Seems Valentine's day is once again upon us. Must be why the grocery stores were packed today... Any better ideas?
Well, after finishing laundry last night shortly after running out of gas, I pretty much collapsed into bed and didn't wake up until after 10:00 this morning. Yes, slept right through 9 am Mass, and didn't stand a snowball's chance of getting to 11 am (one bath, one shower, and breakfast take a little longer than that one hour we had available). We had breakfast and got moving on the old errand route, and then started on the most ambitious run of Parade of Homes homes... Made it to three. Eldest wasn't feeling good after house one when we stopped for a quick bite, and youngest felt under the weather as we pulled up in front of house two. Skipped house three altogether (it was right next to two) and that's it.
I'm beginning to wonder if we're needlessly complicating our lives in general. I look back on it, and I get less done now with more computer knowledge and more experience than I did ten years ago. I have a more difficult time getting my job done - partially because my job's changed pretty drastically in ten years. But I can't help but wonder if part of it's a conflict with trying to work with inadequate software.
Bill Machrone touched on it a couple months back in PC Magazine. He'd purchased a computer for an elderly relative, and that experience opened his eyes to how counter-intuitive computing has become. Having worked with what is often referred to as the most user-friendly operating system (Macintosh), as well as PC OSes from DOS 2.1 to the present Windows 2000, and various flavors of UNIX, AS/400, VMS, and a smattering of other oddball experiences, I think I'm pretty safe in saying that while most of the current operating systems are no longer user-hostile, the user-friendliness has got a long way to go. Apple's Special/Shutdown combination is just about as counterintuitive as Start/Shutdown.
Some of it is that we are now seeing the first generation of children who've never known a world without computers. They've soaked this stuff up from infancy while we've had to forget a lot of our old prejudices. And that's going to be where we're going to see the first real benefits from this computer "revolution."
In twenty five years, when we're all carrying static-powered Palm-sized super-duper-super-computers on our belts with real-time internet connectivity through wireless satellite relay, GPS positioning connected to a bio-chip implanted right next to our optic nerve which displays information as quickly as we can think about it, those are the kids we'll have to thank. The present computing environment is hamstrung by the keyboard, the mouse, and the monitor. Once we have reliable voice recognition, voice control, and wireless internet connectivity that is always on, we'll be getting somewhere. I just hope I live to see it in my lifetime.
Of course, that's assuming SWMBO doesn't put me in the grave first. The Eldest's first-grade Valentine's day party is due on Wednesday. And frankly, the best invention I've ever run across is the requirement that all kids give all other kids valentines. In grade school, I can remember walking around to the other kid's desks, supposedly ready to put the valentines in their boxes or bags, and I'd end up skipping some bags or boxes just because I'd be terrified of what would happen if the young lady found out of my feelings for her.
But SWMBO was co-opted to do nametags for the young kids - we picked up some three-inch heavy paper hearts at the party store, at about 99 cents a pack, and used some standard mailing labels to print up their names. We then picked up a bag of three-quarter-inch candy hearts, and sorted them out. We now have six groups (two groups of five kids, four groups of four) with the same color of ink for the names, same color of ribbon, and the same sayings on the candy hearts (that were hot-glued on, just in case one of the little monkeys decided they liked the taste of Elmers).
So we're done with that lot for another year. I've just got to get ready for the week to come.
Holy cow. I just looked at Al Hawkin's new "work in progress" site. It's a good thing I've admitted to having no design talents or anything. While I shouldn't pick on Web Designers (remember what is said about critics), I've found that a number of them have some sort of allergic reaction to white space. One of my favorite local news sites (WCCO) used to be a clean, bright layout, with lots of relaxing white space to allow the eye to rest. And, amazingly enough, they also allowed you to use all of the monitor you'd paid for, and whatever size font you preferred.
At some point, the lunatics in the Web Design Brigade that WCCO contracts with came in with two successive redesigns that have made that site less a usable resource, and more a great sucking waste of time. It's damned near impossible to read the news in their cramped little columns, and it's painful to look at their background covering 60% of my 19" monitor, when they insist on building their pages for those of us still running at 640x480 resolution.
Al's new layout is pretty neat, even if he does force me to a set size, but hey - he admits he's not a web designer - neither am I. I just do what I like. I'm very fortunate to have a number of readers who, when I do silly experiments with things like fixed font sizes, I hear almost immediately "Hey, what's up with the pea-sized fonts" and "What, two inches high is too small for you, you've got to go three?" Gotta love that. I really do appreciate it - I don't preview this stuff in fifteen different browsers, I just haven't got the time. So I keep it simple.
All right - I've got a potential sick kid - nothing much I can do; it's a bit of fever, a bit of an upset tummy, and mostly just needing sleep and some TLC... Time to sleep.
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P. Dominik. All rights reserved.
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