Hosted By...
Last Updated : Sunday, 28 July, 2002 at 11:06 PM -0500
|
| Daynotes On a Budget Hosted By... Last Updated : Sunday, 28 July, 2002 at 11:06 PM -0500 |
 | ||||
|
|
|||
| ||||
Monday, July 22, 2002
Ah, Happy Monday
Today starts, unusually enough, with a rather odd thought. In two weeks, my
class reunion will be over. Twenty years out of high school. Weird.
I remember much of it clearer than the twenty years since. Bouncing on a bus somewhere to play pep band, late one night during "spring tournament season". Killing time in the band room. Wanting, in the very worst way, to get an official "cubby" in the band room...
We had an instrument storage room called "the band room." It was officially for storing instruments. However, my high school, being progressive (at the time) used a couple of what I thought were good ideas.
First of all, we had a six day "cycle" rather than a five day school week. This prevented "Monday" always falling on a Monday (and in no way prepared you for dealing with the real drudgery of mondays in general). Complication number two was that we didn't use the typical "hour" school schedule. You know, first hour, second hour, etc.
Instead, we used something called a "modular schedule". The day was broken up into fifteen minute "mods". Classes were two, three, four, or even five mods long. This allowed certain classes which required the time to run longer, and shorter classes which were, obviously, shorter.
The convenience of such a schedule was that we could have classes, and time between them, and also "free" time. Of course, there were study hall periods, which our school called, for obvious reasons, "backscheduling".
At the beginning of the school year, you got your schedule. Your classes filled most of the days, but there were periods where your time was "unscheduled." Depending on the year you were in in school, you were allowed a certain amount of those over a 6-day cycle to be completely "free" or open. Now, over the course of a six day cycle, with fifteen minute mods, and a school day that ran from 8:30 am to 3:15 pm, you could do the math. There were 162 mods per cycle, and what wasn't scheduled in class or otherwise allowed to be free was "backscheduled" with teachers who had classroom time available.
Now, obviously, as with anything else, certain teachers were more ... desirable than others when it came to backscheduling. Some teachers required immediate, on-time attendance, you needed to remain in your seat for the entire period, and leave on-time (we had a "four-minute passing time" rule at the end of each mod - if the class was ending at the end of that mod - say, 11:30 - the teacher would let you out at 11:26. Which was cool, unless you had a city block to go to get back to your locker to pick up the books you forgot to grab for your next class which was half-way in between...). Other backscheduling teachers were more lenient with their time and ... well, management.
Some teachers, obviously, filled up right away. The library was typically a popular spot; you could occasionally get away with not being there, and when they turned in the slip, you'd tell the principal "no, I really WAS there!" and often get off the hook - the librarians were good, but you could work the system.
Other areas, such as those strict teachers, filled up later. And still others were quite lenient - they'd forget about their quota for number of students allowed, just stamp your sheet, and away you went.
You see, part of the fun of backscheduling was that you, as a student, were responsible for doing it yourself. You had an empty schedule, where you prayed mightily you didn't have too many classes that were separated by a single mod (some teachers wouldn't even allow less than two mods of attendance, which meant you were screwed). And, you always prayed for those open periods at the end of the day. Plenty of free time too goof off, if need be - and Lord knows, high school kids needed it.
But you'd schedule the periods, and then show up (or not, depending on the teacher's policy), and that was that. Until the next semester, when you'd start all over again.
As a freshman, I recall getting only fifteen mods free for the entire schedule. I think it grew to twenty, sophomore year, then thirty junior, then a whopping forty-five come senior year. Lots of free time. Lots to think about and deal with, of course.
Now I look back at those high school days, and they seem a lot more real to me than life does now, sometimes. I wonder how some of those people in my class turned out. I'm sure those who did well then continue to do so. And I'm equally sure that there are some who've had a hard life. I just hope I'm in the middle somewheres.
Linkie Bits
Aha. Calmari
at Strum's House. Heh.
No, Really? I never would have guessed...
So The Reverend chooses a successor. Yeah, but can he read Green Eggs And Ham like Jesse?
Dial back a bit on the caffiene, dude. All shooting cars does is brings more with the pretty flashing lights on the roof to your neighborhood. And you don't want that.
Uh-Oh. This probably means it's a no-go for the cheap rides into the drive in, I guess, huh? Though packing children in there is just not smart. Putting it mildly, of course.
And finally, for those of you who remember my comments last week on the capabilities of the average goose, if you read through this article to the end, you'll see why geese and swans are such healthy birds. Imagine ten pounds of grass going in a day... Now I think you understand the problem.
So, that's a monday morning meeting
Yup. Got notice last week that the salary would be going back to normal come mid-August.
Gave a huge exhale, because I'd dodged the layoff boom again. This morning, my boss
calls me into his office. For those of you new to this little corner of the web,
whenever my boss calls me into his office, it's not good. No, it's never been because
I'm not good; it's always been because "the results" are not good. I'm beginning to
think that, when I do go to the doctor and get some form of bad news, it's going to be
"oh, OK" rather than an "omigawd" because, frankly, I've been through this "the
results" stuff before.
So anyway, he calls me in, and in 10 seconds, we go from "going back to full salary" to "your last day will be". A bit of unrealism, a bit of "gee, that was fun" on my part, then back to business - you folks put together a list for me of those items/things you need to know that I know, and I'll get going on it ASAP. In the meantime, I'll be in and out, it's been fun, I won't be a stranger.
Can't say I'm surprised. Can't say I'm angry, either. It's been a good run with a good bunch of people, and I'm sorry to see it end. I'm also hopeful that I'll find something right quick that will keep food on the table - because we cannot afford for me to spend a whole lot of time working on home-based projects. I'm thinking anything over about twenty minutes is a bad thing, given the current cash-flow situation.
The good news, if you call it that, is that unemployment will pay the house payment - since I brought in roughly 2.5 times the house payment, that's a bit of a bummer. But since it's at least going to pay the house payment, that's better than nothing.
So, folks, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be spending a whole lot of time on finding work for lil' old me, and not a whole lot of time communing here. While I appreciate and will most likely lean heavily on your support, the bottom line is that this don't put food on the table. And, once we get through two freezers, a fridge and a half, and whatever we've got in the cupboards, we'll be worrying about.
So keep me and my family in your good thoughts and prayers, please - I sure could use them. I don't like asking for help, but one thing I have learned over the past three years is that we don't get anywhere without it.
Hope your monday was better.
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
A Tear To Your Eye, It Does...
My kids are the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I wish I could
take credit for them, but they are in many ways their own works of art.
Last night, Ann and I exchanged the eye signals over dinner, and she agreed. I slid back from the table a bit.
"Okay, guys"
"Yeah, Dad?" (Jack with his mouth full of hot dog)
"Starting next week you guys will get to stick around the neighborhood more
and play."
"Yahoo!" (From both)
"Well..."
"Wait a minute, Daddy," says Rhiannon.
"Well, guys, Daddy's company hasn't been doing too good, and today they let
a bunch more people go..."
"Including you, Daddy?" says Rhiannon.
"Including me, honey."
"I don't like it when they do that. Why can't they just keep
you?"
"Well, honey - "
"I have an idea!" pipes up Jack (he who finally remembered to get the
note for the missing tooth under his pillow, so the tooth fairy could deliver)
"What's that, Jack?"
"We could, you know, like, make money with a lemonade stand..."
Granted, this has been on their minds since, oh, I dunno, the dawn of time. Clearly, though, I have done something right in that they aren't running in circles and screaming and shouting like I want to...
And of course, Jack's a wee bit bummed - we were off the end of this week anyway for the uniform sale, et. al., and so with this week's "Star Wars" class at daycare, he's going to miss almost half of it. They're doing Star Wars plays all week long - no lines to memorize, no blocking to work out or anything like that. Just playing around.
And, in a total cast against type, Jack drew a role that is so un-Jack-like that I'm at a complete loss to explain it. They split the cast parts into "Old Star Wars" (the original three films) and "New Star Wars" (the more recent two films). The kids drew lots for roles, and Jack drew "Old" Yoda.
Other than that, everyone's been delivered to the appropriate location so far this morning, and I'm about to head in for another visit at the former employer's place for cleanup and triage (Lord knows they're going to need it).
Be well, stay sane. It's cheaper than the alternatives. Trust me on this.
More later...
Damned Computers
I had a long rumination here, which has been (mercifully for you) lost.
However, I'd like to thank all of you who've written to encourage me - it does
help. Not the way I'd like to hear or be introduced to some of you, but it
helps.
And of course, the bad luck fairy, seeing that I wasn't completely beat to a pulp, settled in the shotgun seat of the car this morning when I got home. Said SOB proceeded to cause all manner of havoc on the vehicle.
First, I couldn't start it. I thought "gee, Sunday was mighty humid - would there be water in the tank?" - considering our dewpoints dropped about 30 degrees, and the temp almost forty, it's possible. So I tossed in a bottle of Iso-Heet and gave it an hour. And it started right up. So I figured I'd head into the office. Which I did - partially. I made it up 35W to the Minnesota River bridge, then for some reason the car completely lost power. I didn't panic, but headed for the shoulder - then the power returned.
No idiot me, I figured I'd pushed my luck as far as I wanted to, and decided to turn around. Pulled off the first ramp, and the car died. I coasted to the light, turned on the emergency flashers, and then tried to start it. After about 3 minutes, the car restarted. I proceeded into traffic, turned back onto the freeway, and headed back south.
Fortunately, the dealership we'd scheduled our appointment for was just off the freeway - so I took the back way up to them (they're up a bit of a hill), and then the fun started in trying to find a parking spot. The car finally died as I was pulling into a spot, so I coasted into two spots, let it set for a minute, and then restarted the car, straightened it out, and walked away (forgetting the garage door opener - I'm still new to this house thing).
Fortunately, the fine folks at Park Jeep Eagle said "sure, you can have your rental two days early" so I took it. And it's out in the driveway now. Phew.
Linkie Bits
Aw, Nuts. The author of "My Name Is Asher Lev" (Chaim Potok) is dead. We read that book in high school - yes, I went to a Catholic High School, and yes, it's one in the most Catholic county in the United States. But yeah, we read that, Catcher in the Rye, and a couple of other controversial books. And Watership Down, yeah. So?
And, in the "Banjo-Picking Idiots Define Curriculum" department, these folks are upset that incoming freshmen (most nearly 18, if not already there) are being asked to read a book about a major religion. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?
All right, how stupid do you have to be to not be able to see or outrun a destroyer?
And the Sartell Sewer produces sulfuric acid? Gee, there's a shock.
Oh, for fun...
Funky Search Phrases...
resume
Gee, how convenient. The latest one's
right here.
sugar daddy
Hey, now, not so loud, or everyone will find out...
iomdisk.sys
I wish I could solve half the problems that thing caused - then again,
I don't remember the problem.
wast
Not waist, or waste, but
WAST. Ah, yes. I know it
well...
carmen the nurse
Gee, was that only a week ago?
groundskeeper pro
Some new software package, I'm guessing...
trustworthy
Yup. "Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient,
Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, Reverent." Boy Scout Laws. That's me.
What of it?
"we got hosed, tommy"
If you're talking about this week, yeah, it appears so.
stacked dado head cutter
All you filthy folk get your minds out of the gutter. A "dado" is merely a
slot which something else (typically another piece of wood, like a shelf), is
set in. A "Stacked Dado Head Cutter" is typically a pair of saw
blades for a radial arm or table saw, which can be used to create the
aforementioned slot. The "stacked" portion comes from the shims
(typically with teeth)
scott's grass seed
Yeah. Could be Scott's Turf Builder Plus 2, as well...
kamp dells
Wow. A year ago
last weekend. Wow.
stinkbomb
Poopypants. Go around calling me names, boy...
eduinstituteforprofesionals
Um, next time, try spaces, and spelling "Professional" correctly.
blue nimda
No, the song was "Blue Monday" by Foreigner. But you probably knew that.
nimda
Pronounced "Pain In The ..."
i have a confession to make
Yeah, I probably said that... At least once. Never, though, in the presence of
an attorney. Go ahead, say it, my wife does. "Gee, he's no fun..."
burning coals
Um. No. Not lately.
die amtrack
Bad, bad juju. Be careful with that, man.
"creak freeand 9"
Right. Whatever you took this morning, don't take it tomorrow, and
try it again, OK, dude?
how to apply insignia patch of marine dress blues
No idea. And if you're looking here instead of asking one of your fellow Marines,
you are one desperate jarhead (he said with respect and affection)...
hard luck harry
I've no idea who he is, but I think he might actually be luckier than me...
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
Yes, that annoying little animated GIF up above will take you to my latest and greatest resume. And should the topic come up, I can back up everything on it, all the way back to Software Etc., 10 years or more ago.
Ran into the office today to pack and print and ship - well, pack and ship, as I'd run out of gas about 11:30 pm last night, and couldn't get stuff done for the cover letters. So I was going to stop back home today after dropping the children, when my lovely bride said "rather than dropping me at the bus stop, since I'm going to be late now anyway, can you take me to St. Paul?"
Now, those of you gentlemen who are married know that pointed questions usually involve, well, points. Right in the ... never mind. Anyway. The pointed question answer is usually obvious, as it was in this case. "Yes, Dear."
So I dropped the children for their last day at the summer daycare (for now, God willing), and rode off to St. Paul. One thing I've noticed about this Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo (too damned many names, I'm just calling it "Cherokee") is that it's a fairly comfortable ride. Mind you, one of my first vehicles was a big old Dodge pickup (full size, they weren't making them small back then) and the rough ride didn't surprise me. What did was the relative lack of punch when I hit the gas. The vehicle moves, but not all that quickly, and I get the feeling that while I'm taking it gently (as it's not mine), it doesn't have a lot of power in reserve. Oh well. I'm not going to push it and find out.
Got to my office at the crack of 9 am, went in, and ... nope. I keep forgetting that I, the early guy, am no longer there, and the other early person is leaving the company for, get this, Nursing. She doesn't want to do Visual Basic web development any more, she wants to be a nurse. Which I think is fantastic. So I waited until about 9:20 when one of the other people showed up, another at 9:30 am, and then my former boss at 10:30 (he had a dentist appointment, and came in looking a little ... dazed. First thing I said to him was "no, you're not drooling").
Of course, by then I was fully packed and nearly ready to go, except for one thing. The only other person I'd made a local administrator for my laptop wasn't in, and I needed to add others onto it so they could use it once I was gone. So I waited for him, and while I was waiting, burned a CD of my greatest hits. Firewall white papers, replication white papers, SQL 7 - 2000 conversion issues, and all sorts of other work I'd done. I'll spiff it into a final form, print out a copy, and keep it in a binder for "reference" or showing off if a interviewer asks to see it.
Then I came home. In the rain. Now I'm going to work on cover letters until it's time to get the wife and kids. Isn't this fun?
Linkie Bits
Can't let everything go to hell, can we?
Ah, yes. Unfortunately, bad taste still isn't a crime, or Mr. Traficant would have been toast a LONG time ago. Did you see the man's HAIR?
Harvey Pitt wants a RAISE? Wow. Greed and stupidity abounds, it most certainly does. How can we say this so it sticks? Oh, yeah. IT'S THE ACCOUNTING RULES, STUPID...
Now there is a tough little girl. Good for her.
I liked the alternate headline for this article. "Group Marches For Right To Stand Still".
Well, I have some issues with the use of the First Amendment to defend "Artistic Expression" when nekkid, but hey, <CHAUVINISM> on some, it sure looks good </CHAUVINISM>. With that said, no, I've never seen this young lady dance.
And finally (for now, at any rate), this story sounds very familiar... Three comments. ONE - Near as I can tell, "Hot Fudge Sundae" fall on a Friday, that month. TWO - Yeah, February 1, 2019, just the day before my sister's 54th Birthday ... oops. THREE - assuming we don't have a stealth asteroid fly outta left field and sucker punch us before that time...
That's enough trouble for right now.
It's A Matter Of Perspective...
Tonight, after we put the kids to bed, I went out on the deck. Cars were roaring past, stereos booming, on the street behind us. There was a cold wind coming out of the south, and to the north, there was a thunderstorm. The deck was wet, the chairs were wet, and the humidity was going right up.
And I sat there, and looked around. And I realized I'm sitting on my own deck. The cars going past aren't going to shoot at me, and the lights moving around in the sky aren't likely to bomb me. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I noticed the sky above was breaking up, and the clouds were opening up to reveal the last faint traces of deep sunset-blue sky, with some deep orange highlights on the clouds. The lightning was absolutely silent, but spectacular.
After yesterday and this morning, I think I'm over the mild panic. I'm also sure that I'm ready for what's next. I just don't know what that is.
I spent some time thinking about it this afternoon. I "fell into" a career in IT in the most bass-ackwards way possible. I liked it.
In college, I went to my gen ed courses, and tried like mad to get into the business classes I needed. But when 80% of your college of 2000 students is trying to get into a program that was designed for, at most, 25% of the college population, you know there's a blivet situation rapidly headed for snafu-status.
So I looked for courses to get into to "broaden my horizons." I ended up working with the VAX, and working for and with some good people. And, as the story always goes, my financial aid ran out. And I ended up working in fast food.
I had a home computer, though, and found ways to use it. I can still remember desperately wanting one of those new-fangled half-screen laptops back in 1986. I was doing saturday night books - every second week I would have to count the food only, every fourth week everything from food to napkins. I don't remember what the middle one was, but I do know that if something went wrong, those fourth weeks were brutal - once I got out of there at just short of 5 am. Since the opening manager showed up at 7 am, that was close.
I moved to the Twin Cities and got a job in a software store. I worked there for a while, then found an ad - "Customer support, with company car after 90 days". Well, duh, this was 1991 and that sounded pretty good to me.
So I went to work there and got a heck of a lot of varied experience. Then I moved on. More experience. Moved on, and moved on, and moved on...
And it's a chance to move on. Which should be fun.
Thursday, July 25, 2002
Oh, Fer Cryin' Out Loud...
Seems the "Attorney-Over-Employment Act" is at it again.
This story on the local news site has an attorney for a fat man suing fast food joints for irresponsible and deceptive nutritional information on their web sites. My 2¢s worth is that this fellow's major organs should sue him for abuse, neglect, and violation of contract.
Look - as a rather hefty individual myself, I can assure you that health is a concern of mine. But then again, so is assuaging my hunger. And sometimes a fast-food burger is good. Does that mean that I'm eligible to sue the people selling it? Sorry, but I take a bit more responsibility for myself. I know that fast food is usually of a decent quality, quickly prepared, and not exactly looking to keep to the low-fat lifestyle I should be following. Does that mean it's their fault I'm fat? Hell, no.
For someone to bring a suit like this is to say "look, my mouth, taste buds, and stomach are more of a force in my life than my brain. I want, I eat, and I'm not willing to accept the responsibility for that."
Sheesh. Take some responsibility, would ya? I eat sometime because I'm hungry, sometimes because I like the flavor. I've tried, very, very hard to not eat "because I'm bored". That's one of my bigger problems. Which I'm working on.
But to blame the fast food folks for your weight problems is ... well, it's irresponsible, it is.
In my not-so-humble opinion.
And, tonight, it appears my ISP is either blocking or cannot find one of the servers on CNN's "gotta use it" list - the style sheets, images, and lots of other stuff on their page is missing. The written content is there, though...
Must be a sign from God to go to bed.
We went out tonight - yeah, I know, but wait until you get through this. We headed to the Zoo for a free evening of monkeys and music. No kidding. They didn't bill it like that. It was "Dakota Electric Family Night At The Zoo." Our former electric company was offering free entrance (with conditions) to the zoo, and sponsored one of the local orchestras to participate by playing music.
Around here, the Zoo typically closes no later than 6 pm, except during the spring, when it closes at 4 pm. I'm suspecting the hours are less with accommodating the people, and more with accommodating the animals. Quite a large number of them that normally appear lethargic, or near death, were out and active. On the other hand, the otters were all nose-to-the-door waiting to leave into their "off-display" cage areas.
So it goes. After that stop, we hit Target over in Apple Valley to look for three things. Hangers, a phone for downstairs, and an interview shirt. Seems the nearest Greatland Target is no more, and is in the process of becoming a "SuperTarget". Which means Groceries in the store, too. I dunno about that. I'm sure they'll do a good job and all, but I just don't think I'll be going to a store that's across the street from a HUGE grocery store for groceries. If I'm there for a shirt and need milk, well, that's OK. But I'm not going to shop there for regular grocery runs.
Anyway, we found a new phone for downstairs - $14.99 with caller ID, so I've got a phone on my desk now, and also found a couple of shirts. One was a butt-ugly "Hawai'ian" shirt (I've no idea why they call them that) for $3.20, one was a decent dark-blue interview shirt for $4.20, and a red short-sleeve shirt for $8. Not a one of those was over half the original price - the $3.20 shirt started out at ten times the price (though the first time I saw it was on sale for $29.99). The $8 shirt was $19.99 originally.
So I guess that's some cheap, justifiable shopping. And yeah, we even got hangers. Ann got the kids all of their school uniform stuff (except for some shirts for Jack) for about 1/5th what we expected to spend if we'd bought new, so there's that.
And, of course, in the midst of all the good news, only a little bad - well, a lot, actually - the car repair folks called. The total repair bill's going to be nearly a grand, and the biggest problem wasn't what we thought, but a wheel which had been "dinged" slightly last winter when I slid, rather gently, I thought, into a curb, and turns out to be the root cause of so many other issues... Lovely. Once that's repaired, the car should be in much better shape. So I guess that's good news of a sort...
Off to sleep. G'nite.
Friday, July 26, 2002
845 amAnd yet another reminder for me - please remember to A) upload the post, and B) put the trash cans out on Thursday night. I've been a little distracted lately (no, really, I have), and so guess what I forgot to do...
Oh well. Off to see what today brings us in the way of fun / unusual / annoying / distrubing events.
11:45 am
I apologize for the size of the picture below. But It Just Cannot Be
Helped.
We were at the Zoo last night, and I thought the sign in front of me was particularly humorous. So I snapped a quick shot, without bothering to stop/frame the image, and lookee what I got.
Saturday, July 27, 2002
Sorry about not making it back here yesterday. We actually went to the County fair here, and got pretty overheated. The final kicker was riding the tilt-a-whirl for some people (I didn't), and that overdid it.
The air was rather hot, humid, and not moving much at all, which contributed a whole lot to the problem. So after about three hours out there (which was almost enough time to see the exhibits, walk the midway, and meet three of the four candidates for sheriff), we came back. We got home, watched the news, and heard a news report that a nearby home had been surrounded by the local SWAT team, lots of police, and a whole lot of media.
So I listened to the weather report, and heard that Saturday would be a "Sunshine Sandwich" - rain in the morning, sun at midday, and rain in the evening. So I ran out to mow the back yard. Finished that, came in, and took off my shirt and lost about twenty pounds. Yes, it was THAT humid.
Then I watched the 10 pm news, and heard that the fracas near us broke up around 9 pm, after the police determined that the suspect hadn't been in the house with an infant after all - he'd escaped. Lovely. So my garage, my house, and my back yard stood wide open while this "armed and dangerous" nutball was wandering around - less than a mile from here.
It's not that I live in a high crime neighborhood, I think - it's that they're just too damned close.
So that was yesterday. Today, I got up (to, you got it, sunshine), we hit the farmer's market and the grocery store, came home, and I started the grill for another rack of pork ribs. At about 4 pm, the rain rolled through - literally four minutes of light drizzle, and we were done. Our dewpoint went up to about 75 around here, so we're hosed for getting cool enough to dump this.
After the ribs were going good, some friends arrived, and in the end we had ribs, steak, and burgers, all done on the same grill (though not at the same time), and I done pretty good.
And I see Dr. Pournelle lost his friend yesterday. Bob Thompson makes an excellent case for it. As a child, I didn't have pets. The first real pets I've had have been Tish and Gilligan. I could tell you stories about both of them. I could bore you to tears with details about their antics - how Tish will, unless the bathroom door is fully latched, push it open with his head and come in - he does that every morning, if I let him. But as Bob points out, pets ARE friends. They are sensitive to our moods. Gilligan just walked up under my desk and plopped down on my feet to remind me he's here - and I'm sure he came out of Rhiannon's room, where he prefers to spend the early evening times, because he could tell I was upset at Jerry's loss.
A pet like a cat or dog is someone (yes, SOMEONE) you deal with every day. You see them morning and evening. They'll greet you at the door (or wander out later and yawn at you with a look that says "oh, you were gone?"). Losing a friend like that is difficult. Very, very difficult.
and there are nine families who are extremely fortunate this evening.
Sunday, July 28, 2002
No, I wasn't killed by herself when she saw the picture from above. She even saw it before posting, mind you... I'm still alive. Just got a little wrapped up in the rescue drama last night, and then went to bed. After church this morning, I also took a nap. Boy, this job hunting makes one tired...
I find myself sitting here on this Sunday evening, like and unlike the last, wondering what will come of the future. I'm confident that my skills and abilities will be needed by an employer soon - and I'm also confident that I'll get through this with minimal disruption and disturbance.
Perhaps it's false confidence. I don't know. I do know that I would have much preferred that this not happen. But I also know that the Good Lord only gives us what He knows we can handle. I just wish He didn't think I was so damned capable. But we've been here before.
And yes, I've often thought of opening my own consulting firm. There's a problem with such an approach, though. If you're in computers, you eventually fall into the trap of "growing the business". Now, that's nothing against those who do, but the natural order of things is to want to continue to improve - well, MY natural order, that is.
But the problem is that with computers and technology, it's a full-time job to keep current with that technology. And if you're working with security and firewalls and the like, which was a portion of my job previously, then you know that if you only do it part-time, you're only falling behind about 50% more every single day. Now, on some days, you catch up. But on others, you move 5%, and the rest of the community moves at 85-95%. There's always one or two really bright people out there moving at 110%, which means you're always going to be behind someone - especially in security.
I'm sorely tempted to scrub off the serial numbers and put out for your perusal the document I was working on for my previous employer. One of the suggestions my boss had was to have a quarterly review of security for our customers as it affected their product installations. Which I'd nearly finished preparing (it was due September 1, but the bottom line with that sort of thing is that most of the recommendations are static but bear repeating, while anything written as "current" is out of date two minutes after it hits the web server anyway (assuming you saved right to the server with the document).
I could go on for pages (and did, for twelve, actually), but security boils down to a couple of major points. First, it's not a case of if, but when, you will be hacked. Second, being behind one layer of security is like trying to sleep in a cold room under a single thin blanket. Sure, it covers you, and might keep off the breeze. But unless you're sleeping in a parka, you need thicker blankets - think "defense in depth". Third, test your defenses. Don't assume they're invulnerable - because they most definitely are. The trick is when will they give access, and to whom.
Finally, and most importantly, don't ever think "hey, we're done. We're secure". Ever since RTM and the first true "internet worm", hackers have been a step, or more, ahead of the security folk. The good news today is that rather than having a single strand of string marking the boundaries of the computer, we have fairly sturdy fences. Of course, every fence ever made has a knothole, or gap, or way through. And if the computer is plugged into an electrical outlet, turned on, and in use by any one at all, it's vulnerable in some way.
But that's more than enough about security on a Sunday evening.
Tomorrow, we drop Mrs. Dominik at the bus station and head back home to play "Summer Vacation with Dad" the Home Edition. I'll make a late, leisurely, nutritious breakfast (likely to be peanut butter toast and Captain Crunchs' latest hit, "Choco-Donuts". Man, and I thought the heyday of the pre-sweetened cereal was the mid-1970s). Then I'll surf some job boards, send the kids outside to play for a while and run them ragged, and keep busy. We'll also possibly get the Eagle back (which will be a regret, at least for me, as I really do like the Cherokee - I think we'll look for a used one in the spring, maybe). And maybe even go looking for a ceiling fan/light combo for Jack's room.
Off to another week...
Copyright © 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003 John
P. Dominik. All rights reserved. No reproduction without express
written permission. Opinions expressed herein are my own, and my fault. For further information, check out my
other home page.