Diary of a Network Geek

Two things for two different kinds of geeks.

Back when I was a one-man IT shop the first time, I read a book called “Time Management for Dummies“. I know, I know, one of those damn Dummies books, but it really wasn’t bad. The best thing it taught me was about ToDo lists and how to manage one and prioritize it and all that. Well, over the years, I’ve used a lot of different software to try and manage my various ToDo lists. Mostly, I used Lotus Organizer and synched it to my cranky, old PalmIII. (That was back before I had the New, Improved, cranky, old PalmIIIc!) But, it was always a hassle to deal with formating and I never could quite get all the little bells and whistles just the way I wanted. Then, I found ToDoTxt.org
It’s a shell script to manage a simple, text-based to do list.
You can run it via Cygwin, or even as part of your user profile on, oh, say, a Linux server. And, you can add in code to automate the insertion of future events that you don’t want to worry about for several days, weeks or months. In fact, there’s a bunch of extra code and even a little user community that’s sprung up around this super cool shell script.

Anyway, I thought it might appeal to the truly “hardcore” geeks who still read this blog the way it appealed to me.

Now, for that other thing…
It’s a book for bloggers. I figure if you’re reading this blog and you aren’t one of the aforementioned hardcore geeks, then you’re still a blog-geek. Now, sooner or later, all of us who write blogs have an embarassing, little “problem” called Writer’s Block. And we prattle on about whatever silly thing comes into our head, like, say a todo list organizer. Well, I haven’t gotten the book myself, but it sure sounds like it might just help us with those sad, lonely times when we can’t think of anything more interesting to write about than the sandwich we had for lunch. It’s No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog. And, based on the table of contents, I might just pick it up!

Seven Steps to a Sharper IT resume.

I always think about stuff like this after a hard day at work.

So, nothing’s changed.

I had this argument once, with a manager who essentially fired me for not knowing when a drive would fail, about how it was impossible to predict if, or when, a drive would, in fact, fail. Guess what? When I told him it was impossible to tell before it happened, I was actually right. At least, according to this blog entry on ZDNet, I was. Gee, I guess I really did know what I was talking about all those years ago and was, in fact, a subject-matter expert who was actually paid to know more about a technical subject than the guy who managed him. Now, if only he had figured that out then gotten out of my way to let me do what I do best…
Ah, well, water under the bridge now.

Besides, it taught me that being right isn’t always the most important thing.  Especially when I’m being loudly, stridently right with witnesses.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Hating people is like burning down your house to get rid of a rat."
   --Harry Emerson Fosdick

So, we had a little excitement at work last week.

Hmm, let’s see if I can tell this story without implicating anyone…
These two guys at work got into it last week. One’s an older guy, probably close to retirement age. We’ll call him Cowboy. The other one is younger, in fact, barely out of high school. We’ll call him Young’un. Young’un used to work in the same department that Cowboy did, but moved on to another area. Young’un, in fact, works here because his father, who we’ll call Pappy, works here in yet another department.
So, Cowboy was always running his mouth about one thing or another and he got into it with Young’un. Things escalated to the point that Cowboy apparently got very upset. He left the heated “conversation” and went to his cubicle. He returned with a paper bag that he started shoving in Young’un’s face. Then, he pulled the bag off his hand and revealed a loaded .45. For those of you unfamiliar with that reference, that’d be a kind of handgun.

Well, somehow, things de-escalated to the point that they both walked away without incident. But, Young’un was bothered by this behavior, to say the least. Based on what I pieced together, he talked to several people about it, including Pappy. Pappy, being a standard, protective father, wanted to handle things “the country boy way”, his words, and stomp the excrement out of Cowboy after work. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and the police were called.
Turns out, Cowboy had a rather long rapsheet. Several counts of burglary of various flavors, spiced with prior weapons charges and assorted felonies. In fact, he was in the last year of his parole for his latest felony. Now, again, for those of you not familiar with our criminal justice system, it is illegal for a convicted felon to possess and handgun. It’s also a violation of his parole.
When I left Thursday night, after working a little late, the nice officers were still doing their paperwork, but, I’m told, that he’s now a guest of the State. His car was still in our parking lot most of the weekend, but was gone this morning when I came in. The gossip grapevine hasn’t delivered any news regarding his ultimate legal fate, but I suspect he’s be a guest at the Gray Bar Inn for quite some time.

Okay, now, I have to be honest about this. As glad as I am that he’s off the street, I feel a little sorry for the old guy. I just try to put myself in his shoes and imagine the long string of bad decisions that led him to this place. In spite of having made some really big mistakes in my own life, honestly, it’s a bit hard to see myself doing that many things that wrong.
Still, I pray that God will take care of even so lost a lamb. And, I pray that I never get so lost.

UPDATE:  Apparently, Cowboy is out on bond.  Not sure how that could have happened, all things considered, but there’s limits to my grapevine.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
Just because something is simple doesn't mean it's easy.

So, I’ve been getting quotes on a lot of service providers lately.

Wow, this is why I don’t put phone tech on my resume. I hate doing phone work! But, still, since most phone switches are now digital, at least, and mostly a specialized computer, it does make sense. But, along the way, I’ve had a couple of issues with providers. That means that I’ve been doing a lot of comparison shopping. If you get stuck doing this, here’s two sites that will help:
AllInternetNow and BridgeOne Broadband Locators
I’ve actually used the latter of the two most recently and the response was phenomenal! Within fifteen minutes, I had a phone call from someone who confirmed my information and fired my information off to four providers to bid on the service. No more than fifteen minutes after that, I had one of those providers calling me. Oh, and did I mention that was a free service? At least, it was free to me, which is all that matters. Not bad.

Anyway, I just thought I’d share that for those of you who get stuck in the same spot I often do. Hope it helps someone!

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"What is necessary to change a person is to change his awareness of himself."
   --Abraham Maslow

A cigarette sure would taste good about now.

So, as my regular readers know, I missed my NaNoWriMo goal by a factor of about, oh, 10 or so. I managed just under 5,000 words of the 50,000 goal. So, in that sense, it was a total failure. However, that was 5,000 more words of fairly not terrible fiction than I’ve written in, well, in a very, very long time. So, in that sense, it at least got me writing some more. (You can see the drivel I managed to produce at my other blog, Fantasist’s Scroll.) What I learned from all this is that working 10 to 12 hour days and weekends does not make for a good writing schedule. I just wish I had more to show for all that work than I do.

You see, after a good two-and-a-half weeks of soul-crushing, mind-numbing work, I still have “issues” with our new phone system and voice and internet provider. The main issue with the new phone system is voice-mail. The phone switch itself, a Nortel BCM 400, is actually quite nice, as far as I’m concerned. Loads of features, quite easy to use and, once you get used to the interface, easy enough to manage. It also came with some nice tools that I can use to monitor the switch from my PC via my network. Now, granted, we have an issue with one of the cabinets having a bad backplane, but, once I moved those cards to the second media cabinet, it seemed to stabilize quite nicely. Of course, I’ll be going in to the office for a bit tomorrow to check on things to make sure it’s still running okay, but I’m fairly confident that all will be well.
The “problem” I have with the new CallPilot voice-mail system is, well, mainly that it’s new. And it has new, different options and menus. Yeah, pretty much, that’s the only “problem”. It works differently than the old system and the boss doesn’t like that. *sigh* So, now I have to try and salvage that end of things. I’m hoping that I can get some kind of work around that I can program into the phone switch to make it more like the old system, but, as of right now, the biggest problem with the new phone system is that it’s new.

The data end of things, however, is a different story. Since about two of my readers actually care about this, I’ll sum it up for you. The salesman told me that I’d be able to do something with e-mail that we do on our current provider and, today, I found out that we simply cannot do that unless we have our own server. Eventually, we will have our own server, but, until then, I can’t have a feature that my boss, the president of the company, sees as essential to his business taken away from him. It simply won’t fly.
And, if that’s not enough reason to be suddenly craving a good smoke, there’s more in my personal life.

So, there’s that girl…
You know, over the years, I’ve noticed a pattern of sorts with the “problems” in my personal life. The problem always starts “Well, there’s this girl…” The fact that I’m days away from being 38 years old hasn’t changed that much, though the “girls” have gotten older, too.
In any case, it’s been a long, long time since a woman got to my like this one. I can’t explain it. It’s not a sex thing, honest. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to find her eating crackers in my bed, but there’s something about her that’s special. She’s just the right mix of crazy and conservative. Very professional at work, but, after showing her my tattoos, she confessed that she had two as well. I haven’t seen them yet, but, maybe someday. I can’t get enough of the way her dark eyes light up when I make her laugh. When I see her, I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her close just to feel her warm reality pressed against me. I want to confess secrets into her perfect, little ears and feel her cool fingers warm in my hand. I want to make her blush and fluster her with subtlety of my flattery. And she reads. Oh, God help me, she reads books for fun at lunch! Every frustrated writer’s dream! A reader to love and a lover who reads all in the same person.
So, what’s the problem? Well, aside from a divorce that will be final Monday, and an 11-year-old daughter that I think I already charmed, and an 8-year-old son I haven’t met, and the dog I’m about to adopt from her, just one. Her misogynistic, ex-Marine boyfriend who’s also a single dad and in college. (UPDATE: Okay, upon reflection, that may have been an extremely biased judgement that was partly based on desire and single-malt Scotch, but, still…)  I don’t know, though, things sound rocky. Besides, I’m the one she trusts to take the dog. And, she made some hint about being “forever friends” if I took him, since she’d want to see him again.
You know what? I think I could live with that, but, it sure makes me crave a cigarette. I always used to smoke while I waited for things to happen.

I’m not going to, though. Smoke that is. No, instead, I’ll mumble a prayer and have another Glenmorangie and water on the rocks. As I told one of my favorite bloggers last year at my birthday, I don’t drink much anymore, but I always drink the good stuff.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"May you live all the days of your life."
   --Jonathan Swift

I have a dream.

It is a simple dream. No, not winning the lottery, or world peace, or the perpetual motion engine, or even a mythical trip to the Playboy Mansion. No, my dream is that I might get through an entire task without interruption, distraction, mishap, mayhem, or… Sorry, lost my train of thought because the dog started barking at something outside. Now, where was I?

Right, so, Monday, I started out with a few simple bullet items to accomplish. Easy, uncomplicated goals. Just configure a laptop and run a couple of cables out in the shop. Seems fairly straight-forward, doesn’t it? Sadly, those two simple, easy, straight-forward things are still not done, two days later.
Instead, I dealt with spy ware installed on a machine in Bellechasse. A machine that I personally cleaned of spy ware last week. In some cases, deleting, by hand, files and directories and Windows registry entries to kill the offending malware. Two full days I spent on this infernal machine, meticulously cleaning every last scrap of naughty code, only to have it completely reinfected not more than five minutes after it was powered on by the user. Why? Because, no matter how many times I tell my users not to click on any random link they get in e-mail from Bubba Mussolini or Archimedes Hirohito or Kwabena Mieles, no matter how fascinating their offer sounds. Nor should they click on any stupid web page that comes up in a search they can’t imagine would be a problem, no matter how personal it might be. And a guy who’s used AutoCAD for years asked me for help on printing. Me, who’s never so much as opened a drawing in the latest version of AutoCAD, much less tried to send it to a plotter. Naturally, I’ve got him printing in less than thirty minutes.
Then, at home, I made marinara which proceeded to find every piece of clothing I was wearing. That was followed by an attempt at a berry smoothie, made with frozen strawberries, blueberries and raspberries. A smoothie that was so thick and frozen it “poured” like a blender full of half-solid mud. The splash from that minor accident found the clothes that the marinara missed. But, before I could try to stop those stains from setting, I had to hurry and nail up some boards from the fence because my dog had tried to chase a squirrel through the rickety, old thing. Oh, and speaking of dogs, Hilda found something dead and nasty to roll in, after having had a bath Sunday. Now, even though I live far enough away from the city that I pass cows on the way to work, they’re still not in my backyard. Nor am I so close to the projects that she should have found a diaper in the backyard, so what she rolled in, I’m not sure, but, at least now, you have some idea what I was smelling while I tried to get it off her. Again.
(As an aside, I should note that Monday evening, while I was actually having fun installing a blog for a fellow blogger plagued by comment spam, I saw a gecko that was about the size of my pinky scurry across the floor. An hour later, I saw a cockroach by the back door that was at least twice the size of pinky. Who lost the bet with God that allowed roaches twice the size of their natural predator?)

Tuesday, was more of the same, but spiced with visits from phone switch vendors trying to sell me things that I’ve been told I can’t buy. Instead, I have to explain, carefully, to these people that I have two choices for phone switches because a mysterious, invisible “consultant” of some kind, who I’ve never met or talked with, has convinced someone who matters in my company that those are the only two choices that matter. Oh, and the guys in the shop who’ve been waiting on that cable since last week asked about it. And the director of sales needs a photo editor for the Mac he doesn’t want to use, so he can resize pictures to send to clients. And, the engineering department has rehired a former employee, so I need to shuffle people around to get to a computer that has to be totally reconfigured by Monday. (Which is actually an improvement, since I normally get an hour or two’s notice before the guy starts.) And, a giant monitor went out and needed to be replaced. And I have to spec out PCs and a new server, which I’ll have to go install, for that Bellechasse office. And… I’m sorry, something shiny passed by my screen. Where was I?

Oh, right, I should be planning for … Something. Shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t I be planning projects? Planning to improve their IT infrastructure? Something? Who knows. And, what’s more, I don’t have time to worry about it because about the time I have more than two minutes to string together, something else will distract me.
Well, at least they’re still paying me!
But, on the upside, tomorrow night I go in for my last therapy appointment. My head-shrink has pronounced me well. Or, at least, well enough to be turned loose without a keeper, which is all anyone can really hope for, right?

Well, now, if you’ll pardon me, it’s time to head off to work, so I need to put my cup and mouth guard in before I pull on my stain-resistant body armor.
You know, it really didn’t seem like such a big, impossible dream when I got into this business. Ah, well, maybe next year.

Today, I bring you an actual technical tip.

Sadly, it’s not a tip I bring to you via actual experience, but via a regular e-mail I get from the fine folks at TechRepublic. Among the many e-mail news updates I get, they send me a Linux “tech note” filled with helpful information. Today’s was particularly useful, or would be if I were still actively using Linux at work. In the Windows world, a standard setting is to have the Windows password expire every so often, forcing users to create new ones. This usually prompts them to throw out their old yellow sticky note stuck to the bottom of their keyboard, too, but that’s just a side effect of improved security. Now, thanks to this article, you can enable password aging on Linux, too.

Before you start creating users, edit the /etc/login.defs file. Change the following settings:

PASS_MAX_DAYS   99999

(Change this from 99,999 days to something more like 60 or 90. That will force users to change their password more often.)

PASS_MIN_DAYS   0

(Normally, you wouldn’t need to change this.)

PASS_WARN_AGE   7

(This gives them a full week of warnings to change their password. You know your users, but I think “less is more”. Five days should be more than enough.)

You will also want to edit the /etc/default/useradd file, looking for the INACTIVE and EXPIRE keywords:

INACTIVE=14

(This would make an account that has allowed its password to expire to go “inactive” after two weeks. That’s a week of warnings and a week of not working. Should be plenty.)

EXPIRE=

(This sets a specific date for an account to “time out”, regardless of when the password was set. Normally, I’d leave that alone, but if you really want to set it, it’s done in the format YYYY-MM-DD.)

That should get you through most “normal” situations, but if you’ve already got existing users or want more information, read the article at Tech Republic.
Wow, that was fun. For me, at least. Now, all I need is a job that lets me actually use those Linux skills that are rusting like a horse-drawn plow in the Winter snow….

Oh, so you thought a fancy title was enough?

Ah, I remember those fabulous days in the web bubble when everyone around me was selling out and making giant bank.  Not me, though.  Oh, no, I stuck to my principals and fought the noble fight for things like security and longevity and all that sort of silliness.  Ah, well, according to Wired magazine, those times may be fast approaching again.  So, this time, I’ll be prepared with the Web 2.0 Business Plan Generator!  This time, I’ll be able to get some of that venture capital for myself!!

Oh, well, maybe not, but at least making a random generator in PHP was fun.
Hey, it’s Friday, cut me some slack!

But, instead of complaining about why I hate my job tonight, I’ll tell you a joke that sums it all up.

A mother goes and wakes her son up on the first day of school.
“It’s time to get up for school!” she says brightly.
“I don’t like school and I don’t want to go,” he responds.
“Well, why don’t you like school?”
“The teachers hate me.  The kids hate me.  And, I think the lunch lady is trying to poison me.”
“Well, you still have to go to school.”
“I hate school and they hate me.  Why do I have to go?”
“Well, because you’re the principal.”