Diary of a Network Geek

So, some things went well today, and others, not so much.
Virtually all my hardware arrived yesterday and I was able to start getting things setup. Which was good, but not everything went according to plan. For instance, my giant terabyte external drive array is still on a UPS truck somewhere in the greater Houston area. Or so the UPS tracking website tells me. Then, there's the Novell Open Enterprise Server/SuSE Linux CDs that won't be arriving. Why? Well, both the salesman and I were surprised to discover that they don't send the media anymore. Now, it's a download, which is what they're doing even as we speak.
Also, there was the left side panel on the half-height rack from Dell that wouldn't stay on. Any guesses why? Because the underage, third-world welder was overworked that week and the welds on the hooks at the bottom of the panel were extremely substandard and popped. Of course, I could have taken it out to the guys in the shop to get them to weld it quick, but that's not the point. Dell sold me a fully functional rack that should have had all its parts together. They didn't send that, so, now, they're sending a replacement door. I figure it'll arrive about the time that missing drive array does.
Now, here's the lemons to lemonade part...
The great, big UPS that was shown on the quote as simply being 120 volts, which should be standard wall power, turned out to have a funky, 30 amp, round, grounded plug. So, I had to con one of the electricians we have on staff to help me out. Turns out he's going to run a completely new 30 amp circuit just for the server. Which, as you old server monkies know, is just precisely what we should have anyway. Of course, I knew they wouldn't want to hassle with it, so I totally ignored that and, well, sometimes, God likes me and sends me just enough lemons to make a whole, yummy pitcher of lemonade. Just like today.

So, in short, I've had worse days. The server is almost ready to go and the boss still thinks I walk on water. All in all, not bad at all.

No, this is not a euphimistic post.
My new server hardware arrived today. The whole thing, including the half-height rack with the pullout monitor and keyboard. I was also surprised to find that I'd been smart enough to get a server-grade UPS. I thought I'd forgotten that, but, luckily, when I started getting these quotes so many months ago, I'd been smart enough to get that added in. Yea for Jim's hind-brain-server-ordering-autopilot! Yea!
So, tomorrow, it's jeans a day early so I can run the cables through the dropped ceiling to where the rack will live. And, it'll be taking everything out of boxes and getting it into the rack and configured. If I'm lucky, my software will arrive tomorrow. At least, it would be nice to have my Novell Open Enterprise Server and SuSE Linux to install. The backup software, from Syncsort, and the network attached storage devices that I'll be backing up to would be nice, but they're not as important as the operating system. I hope, for obvious reasons.
After that's done, all I have to do is figure out how to migrate everything from the cranky, old Windows NT install and still have all the Windows XP machines and Apples talking to the server. No problem.

I hope.

Since everyone else is quoting from movies this month...
Here's a little something from one of my all-time favorites, Roxanne:

[Roxanne Kowalski is walking behind a hedge because she is nude]
Roxanne Kowalski: Nobody had a coat?
C.D. Bales: I thought you said you didn't want a coat...
Roxanne Kowalski: Why would I not want a coat?
C.D. Bales: You said you didn't want a coat!
Roxanne Kowalski: I was being ironic.
C.D. Bales: Oh, ho, ho, irony! Oh, no, no, we don't get that here. See, uh, people ski topless here while smoking dope, so irony's not really a, a high priority. We haven't had any irony here since about, uh, '83, when I was the only practitioner of it. And I stopped because I was tired of being stared at.

And, that, in a nutshell, is why I'm not subtle. There's just not enough of a market for it, really. No one else seems to be buying. Oh, I used to try, but I often just ended up being obtuse or obscure. And, what did it get me? Not much, I'll tell you that. Not much.
Let's be honest here, okay? Subtlety is over-rated as a form of communication. Subtlety is confusing and frustrating. Subtlety rarely gets the point accross. And, subtlety almost never gets the job done. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm no "hard-charger" who goes full-speed ahead and damn the torpedoes, but I do tend to take things straight on. Frankly, that gets frustrating, too, since so many people seem to expect subtlety. The other problem I have, of course, is that I do okay going head-on with most things, but when it comes to people, I'm rather like a bull in a china shop. Sometimes, I get what I'm after, but, oh, the cost!
And, honestly, while everyone claims they want to communicate in straight-forward, direct ways, hardly anyone seems to actually do that. I'll give two examples of a similar event that will compare and contrast this silly dichotomy quite well.
A couple of months ago, I "met" someone online who seemed quite interesting and was devastatingly beautiful. By all appearances, she was unencumbered, so I asked her out. She thanked me and politely declined, siteing several reasons, not the least of which was the whole stigma of meeting someone online. Fair enough. Question asked and honestly answered. No hard feelings, no fuss, no muss.
Fast forward a couple weeks. Same situation, but different devestating beauty. I ask the question and get put off. And put off. E-mails go unanswered for weeks, or forever. Finally, after much silliness, I get the hint and leave it alone. I think I stopped just short of being the idiot that Angel With An Attitude described in her post about a similar situation. Just barely, but still... And, besides, I was too old for her. Definately not her type at all. You know, all calm and fairly stable and quiet and, well, sort of boring. Not the sort of guy the girls I'm interested in like at all. Like a moth to the flame, I am.

In any case, I find it much, much easier to simply be honest and direct. It cuts down on wasted time. Sure, I don't always manage it, but, still, it's better. (Uh, that's "better" not "bitter". I might have been frustrated by the response the second gal gave me, but I understand it, so I'm not bitter.) And, that's what I try to do. Not everyone likes the questions being asked, but as a guy I used to know in college said, "Hey, if you want to know the answer, you've got to ask the question."

Incidentally, this quote is also from that movie and scene:

I, uh, notice you don't have any tattoos. I think that's a wise choice. I don't think Jackie Onassis would've gone as far if she'd have had an anchor on her arm.

Too true. I dig a cool tattoo on a lady, but an anchor on the arm does not cut it!
So, finally, a little Advice from your Uncle Jim? Just ask the question. If they're uncomfortable with that, well, there's your answer, eh?

This probably won't mean much to most of my readers.
Loompanics was THE underground book publisher and the best source for The Anarchist Cookbook, before Amazon.com, of course. They had everything from alternative energy to conspiracy theory to guerrilla warfare to, well, you name the counter-culture and they had resources for it. This is where I first got a copy of How to Start Your Own Country, among other unconventional books. These folks were, well, "interesting" doesn't cover it. I mean, a book catalog that has a section called "Heresy/Weird Ideas"? It doesn't get much more interesting than that! And, now, they're going out of business. At least there is some good news: almost everything they have in inventory is 50% off. So, here's your chance to get that freaky, counter-culture "how-to" book you've always wanted, save some money, and participate in a little history.
Go ahead, the government isn't watching you so closely that you can't at least browse their on-line catalog, so hit the link: Loompanics.
(As a side note, while looking through their books, I was shocked to learn that I already owned all their good lock-smithing/picking books, and I have yet to even try to pick a lock! Ah, the wages of a misspent youth...)

Okay, so a couple of odd things...
First, as you regular readers know, I'm a bit of a frustrated writer. I have tried all sorts of tricks to get myself writing again, outside the blog, that is. I've dug up writing exercises from years past. I tried being more "arty" in this blog. I even tried starting a blog just for my writing, though that devolved into something else alltogether. In fact, I tried everything short of just disciplining myself to sit and write. In any case, one of my many experiments was a blog written from a fictional character's point of view. That didn't work, so I tried reusing that blog for some other experiments. I called it, after the re-start, Journal of a Madman. Sadly, some one saw this, I assume via a search engine, and thought it was real. Apparently, it was this one entry that disturbed him most: Demon Voices. I just thought was odd and interesting. UPDATE: Please understand that this is a work of fiction. It was an exploration of what I thought insanity might look like from the inside. If I have disturbed anyone with this, I apologize. I have not heard voices of any kind, ever, nor have I ever been treated for or diagnosed with any kind of psychotic disorder.
Second, there was this Nonsequitur comic that Doc sent me. My head-shrink will love it. I, however, will neither confirm nor deny the veracity of this comic and its message.
Thirdly, I went to see my minister at Mercy Street. I did this in preparation for joining the church. Or, actually, moving my membership from the church I attended when I was a kid down here. Apparently, they keep you on the books forever, so all this time, I've been a member of a church I haven't visited in almost 20 years. Go figure. But, that wasn't the strange thing. The strange thing was how much I was like this minister. And, apparently, as I was talking about my ex-wife with him, explaining, in part, why I'd stayed away from church for so long, I said, "We mistook intensity for intimacy." I kept waiting for him to use that in his sermon, but it never quite came out. In any case, this is the first step in my completeing number eight on my list of resolutions.
And, there was some other stuff, too, but I'm still figuring that out, so I probably won't post about it just yet. (I will say, though, that it resulted in neither scars nor tattoos nor criminal charges. In case you were wondering.)

I used to volunteer for H.O.P.E.
But, foolishly, I thought I'd have more time, not less, after the divorce was over, so I stopped making it a habit. The end result is that I haven't been there to help out in months. I'm an official, paid member and everything, but, I had really intended to actually help out at the adoption center. Well, I've always been good at compartmentalizing guilt, so I did that very thing and forgot about it. So, yesterday, I'm running errands and swing by PetSmart, where H.O.P.E. does their adoptions from, off 290, to pickup some food for my Hilda. Hilda was a rescue dog that we got at H.O.P.E.. In fact, that was why I started volunteering there, because, at the time I'd lost Hilda, I was keeping an eye out for a replacement pup. Now, I come into contact with these folks for the first time in months.
Okay, here's the thing... Back when "I" was "we" and "we" got Hilda, there was another dog I connected with named Sage. He was a good dog, though at the time, he had sort of a bad reputation, being, essentially, a Pit-mix. But, click that link and you'll see that he's a beautiful dog. And, at least to me, friendly as all get out. In fact, as memory serves, he did better with the women-folk than guys, but he and I got along really well. Unfortunately, he had issues. For one, he liked cats. Apparently, the thought they were quite tasty. Sadly, we had two cats at the time and picked up a third. Besides that little hiccup, my ex-wife was terrified of him. She'd been bitten by a dog, according to her, as a kid and had physical and mental scars. In fact, it was a fight to get my submissive, sweet-tempered Hilda! (I'm not sure how much of her story was true, though, since she apparently lied on a regular basis to get her way. If only I'd realized that sooner... Ah, well.)
Anyway, when I went in yesterday, Sage, was still there, three years later, looking for a permanent home. So, here I am, the ex is long gone, so that obstacle is removed. I got Hilda back because she allegedly killed one of the poor, sickly, geriatric cats that my ex dragged with her out to Phoenix. Personally, I think it was something else, because the story I got doesn't mesh with how a dog would kill a cat, and, frankly, I don't trust those two to ever do anything but lie. Still, the upshot is, I won't take the risk of having cats with her, so that removes another "obstacle" to adopting Sage. Now, the question becomes, how would my darling, spoiled, little girl take to having another dog in the house? She seems to enjoy other dogs, after she gets to know them. But, I worry about how well she'd take it. And, I'm going to have to do some travelling for work here shortly, so I'm not entriely sure I want to add a dog to my house until after that time. Lots of variables to consider, but, well, I can't help it. I'm seriously thinking about adopting a brother for Hilda.
Thoughts?

The top eleven Geek Pickup lines, as stolen from BBSpot, for your Friday afternoon funny:

Geek Pick-up Lines
11. Tell me of this thing you humans call *dramatic pause* love.
10. If you turn me down now, I will become more drunk than you can possibly imagine.
9. They don't call me Bones because I'm a doctor.
8. Your name is Leslie? Look, I can spell your name on my calculator!
7. What's a nice girl like you doing in a wretched hive of scum and villany like this?
6. You must be Windows 95 because you gots me so unstable.
5. My 'up-time' is better than BSD.
4. I can tell by your emoticons that you're looking for some company.
3. Is that an iPod mini in your pocket or are you just happy to see me.
2. Want to see my Red Hat?
1. If you won't let me buy you a drink, at least let me fix your laptop.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can hear the moans and groans from here. Hey, have a few more drinks and they'll start to get funny. At least, that's my working theory.

Okay, I wasn't going to post anything until after therapy tonight, but...
This news story is just so bizarre and disturbing that I had to mention it. I got this via AustralianIT.com, which carries news that other services in the States often don't get or get days later. Apparently, an American gamer has killed himself on a Bulgarian game forum, via webcam. It seems this guy, nicknamed "Kudjo", switched on his web cam and drank radiator fluid with a bunch of unidentified pills. Other users thought he was joking even though he went on, apparently at great length, for six hours about the effects the substances he ingested were having on him and the fact that he "disappeared from view" several times. It was only after he didn't show up at regular meeting spots that fellow gamers went to his home and learned that he had died in the hospital. The gaming forum has apparently been shut down pending an investigation, but I don't see how they can be held liable.
I was horrified by this, especially the idea that people knew he'd talked about this but apparently did nothing. Anytime anyone talks about suicide it is no joke. Not ever. I know, because I've been there. If people I knew hadn't taken me seriously, I don't know what would have happened. I'm thankful they did. I only wish someone had taken this guy seriously.

Wow, sorry to be a downer today, but I just felt I had to put that out there. It can be a scary world and we all have to look out for each other as best we can. It was just so shocking that I had to say something. I only hope it turns out to be some kind of cruel hoax or joke.

Well, it looks like my server finally got approved.
Yea! So, yesterday morning, our office in New Orleans is having their third or fourth server space crisis in as many weeks and they start complaining about why they can't get a new server. Of course, I patiently explain that I've been going through this little drive-space two-step for about six months or so here in Houston and we need a server as bad as they do. Well, I guess I said the right things to the right people and suddenly everything is a go. So I scrambled around and ordered a Dell server with 1.5 gig of RAM and 1 TERABYTE of hard drive space. I also ordered SyncSort backup software for Linux/Novell, two 1 terabyte network attached storage devices and a 50 user copy of Novell's Open Enterprise Server for SuSE Linux. Now, all I have to do is whip together a migration plan. *sigh*
After I get this all converted and what not, I'll repurpose the old server for the New Orleans office. Sadly this will mean travel to the sweatiest, back-road, industrial armpit outside of New Orleans, but, well, at least it'll get done. And, I'll have my OES server on nice, clean, safe, bullet-proof Linux. Of course, that means more geeky/technical writing. And a lot of penguin references.

I lost a reader recently, and I think my lack of geek content is to blame. At least, I have one less subscriber on Bloglines and, while it is possible that someone else has bailed on me, I blame it on a boring, barely technical job. I spend more time hooking up cables for my boss' KVM switch than I do maintaining anything. In many ways, it has been rather disheartening. Of course, by the time I'm done here, I'll have some really good things to put on my resume, but, then, I've been spinning long, thankless jobs into impressive experience since I started in this business. That Marketing degree comes in handy sometimes. So, in short, I'm looking forward to being a very technical guy for a couple of weeks. I hope I don't bore my new readers while I geek out, though. Frankly, I really like some of you new ones. And, yes, I really do enjoy having a more female demographic. Really.

I have the broad hands of a German peasant farmer.
My hands are covered in the little scars of a careless life. Tiny chemical burns from High School chem lab. Fine knife scars from Boy Scout camp. Calluses on the knuckles from time spent with a heavy bag and doing pushups on clenched fists. Deeper scars from doing my own, inexpert, home repairs. Gouges from sharp metal inside computer cases.
My hands are strong enough to hold gallons of paint like a weekend athelete palms a basketball. Usually, my nails are uneven and bitten, the cuticles worried raw through absent-minded bad habits. I have old, smooth calluses on my palms, from my attempts at lifting weights, that have softened with time. But, for all that, I think they're gentle hands.
They're not the delicate hands of an artist. My fingers are short and broad. Not meant for etherial works of beauty, but the hard labor of the field. And, I have used these miracles of physiology hard. Time spent with nails and concrete and paint and glass. These hands of mine have tightened pipes and fittings and bolts that others would have needed a wrench to secure. Strong hands that have hurt people, both intentionally and accidentally. Never used like my father or grandfather or great-grandfather, all of who worked, at one time or another, in hard manual labor, but, still, hands that find a way when they have no choice.
I'm lucky, really, to have hands like that, but, truth be told, I always wanted those beautiful, delicate hands of an artist. Deft hands that pour magic out through a pen or pencil or brush. Hands that create beautiful art, art that makes the breath catch in your throat. I tell myself that they're good hands. That gentle strength is good enough. That someone, someday, will hold those hands and smile. That those soft, strong hands will hold someone and make her feel safe and secure, even if only for a moment in a darkened theater while a slasher stalks the screen. I pray that those broad hands will one day hold a small child and make her feel safe, too. That those hands traced with tiny, careless scars will be daddy's hands. Will be the safe passage from one side of the street to the other.
Hands are miracles made flesh. All the little bones and tight tendons and strong muscle that let us touch our world. That let us push and pull and poke and prod our world into the shape we make it. Hands can hold a weapon or a pen and change the world forever. They can show an opponent how we hate. Or a loved one how we care.
But, tonight, I'll fold my hands and thank God for my miracles, both large and small. And, I'll pray that He can use those hands to work a little more and, maybe, work a miracle or two yet.