Showing posts with label progress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label progress. Show all posts

25 August 2010

What not to wear

Me, quoting me from a private IRC conversation

14:29 =orc_orc> disabling selinux is like
   having perms of 777
   or no root password at all
   or no wrappers
   or no iptables
14:29 =orc_orc> only weak minds should still be doing these things

Actually, one should set the root password to a unique and hard one for each box, and only use it for recovery [our practice per the 'blue ring notebook' of procedure at one site I ran. The 'per machine' passwords were 'remembered' and kept in a bound book journal in the CIO's office safe; usage logged, resets after use noted in said journal, audits performed]. Non-local root password based login should not be enabled. Rather, one should rely on pass-phrase protected, keyed SSH access the rest of the time

03 August 2009

Life in the Fast Lane

Cobblestone cat with beer
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kickin' down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

  -- Simon and Garfunkel

I picked up my wife at the airport late Wednesday night as she returned from a trade association conference related to her job. As we drove home, she talked about the unusual that happened there. It seems 'New Media' and 'Social Networking' tools have popped up on their radar, but her peers are wrestling to understand the motivations, and how to participate. It seems she astonished them, describing the FOSS stories and tools used that I 'bring home' as I recount the day at the dinner table: websites, wiki, mailing lists public and private, user group meetings, IRC, blogging, Twitter, VOIP, and so forth. They were 'wowed' that an old guy like me had used Twitter and a quick Google tour into the Wikipedia, to answer a son's question raised by an Admiral in a meeting at his job consulting for the federal government in metro DC a while back in seconds of a question coming up

I suppose I take the pervasive availability of such tools, which largely are implemented through a foundation on the fruit of the 'Software Libre' movement for granted, and live a comfortable existence in this virtual reality. Although my hair has been gray for a couple of decades, it is not the me of my self-image, where I still feel 25 and full of vigor. That I whistle, and know the words of pop tunes from 40 years ago and play word games on the tunes at the coffee shop with the barrista does not jar me, although if I get a young one, they clearly have no idea what I am riffing on

That to one side, I still revel in the wonder of the tangible world; a world of taking the family to the State Fair, or working with my hands, wood, and tools repairing a grandchild's wagon. I wrote the first draft of this piece -- a blog post -- with pen and paper with no plan on my mind beyond reconnecting with myself after a hard week, not just the CentOS matters, but in my local physical world as well; I should perhaps rather say, this piece wrote itself, flowing out of my hand's motions, creating, and editing on the paper before me, with strike-through's, insertions, and circled blocks of test indicating movement of thoughts into a flow

rat race with ice cream
I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!

Thinking back as to how I write, I sorely miss the older times of a ready steno-typist, secretary trained in shorthand, and later a ready 'Dictaphone', and the 'gal Friday' legal secretary who helped organize my worklife for many years. I did the creative work, and she straw-bossed the rest behind the scene, as I turned to face the next 'fire'. Each hard work in its own right, and a great and productive partnership. She's dead of lung cancer now -- was a smoker. Ah well

The economics of such luxuries are prohibitive to most in an era where a person who cannot touch-type is perhaps now considered not yet fully literate. Welcome to the next lap of the rat race in this brave new world

When the positions of transcriptionist, book-keeper, and sales clerk, along with the others mentioned above disappeared, and 'progress' came to the smaller enterprise, they were replaced by the small individual computer, word-processing, Quick Books, etc. Oh, and a subtle transfer to self-service responsibility to do all the work with less facility for delegation. Layers of support costs disappeared, as did the middle management, as entities had to flatten the organizational chart, or be outraced by their competitor

Of course, the workload did not go away, any more than a completely 'paperless office' has emerged, The load shifted up to what were formerly more 'knowledge work' folks -- supervisors, or in a small enough firm, the entrepreneur owner, or just was no longer done ... sometimes the customer is 'drafted' to scan bar-codes and pay a cold machine, and no human hand on the part of the vendor can be found. Just try to find a phone number for eBay or Amazon live support some time

commo antennas

We as a culture have weakened and removed spare resource capacity needed to build and nurture long term repeat customers, in favor of cost efficient transactionalism. Gresham's Law, all over again

Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...

During the week I too must prioritize, and work away at the hottest items in Covey's Quadrant One, as my schedule dictates them to me, Less important dreams and promises, desires and goals are left for an open dated 'later.' In my heart of hearts, however, I know that later will never come. Those 'heart's desire' are left behind on the horizon of each new day, for dead

I can offer no remedy, save a caution that when building that schedule, to not mistake a capability to act immediately, with a mandate to do soRushing into the future

Where does the answer lie?
Living from day to day
If it's something we can't buy
There must be another way

We are spirits in the material world

  -- The Police, Sting


06 Aug 2009: edited for a typo/grammar fix, layout error

08 November 2008

Going, going, gone ...


They paved paradise and put up a parkin' lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swingin' hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got till it's gone
They paved paradise and put up a parkin' lot

-- Joni Mitchell
I flew into Phoenix for a week's rest, and was unpleasantly confronted with America West USAir's 15 dollar baggage check flying in. Took the SuperShuttle up to Scottsdale, and had a driver on his third day on the job for them. We were seeing part of the Valley new to him, anyway.

He drove a route up Scottsdale past the site of the former Raw Hide Western Town and Steakhouse. It has been gone three years now. The old site was bull-dozed flat, but it looks as though the developer who started condo construction ran out of money half-way through the project.

Dinner early in the week up in Carefree was to be at Crazy Ed's 'Satisfied Frog' -- its menu has the old saw about how 'it is so popular, no-one goes there anymore'. Last time, we ate at 'The Horny Toad' (as I recall Ed lost the Toad in a divorce; his ex kept running the place). Drove in from the west after a visit to Fry's Electronics on Thunderbird. Gone -- an imposter with new signage in its place -- google says I missed the close by a month.

Drove up to Page AZ for a wonderful nature hike in a private 'slot canyon' with Overland Canyon Tours and photo session [highly recommended and well worth the premium price]; on the way back decided to stop in Sedona for a nice dinner, and found that the high end restaurant we dined at a year ago May had closed doors; at least there is a new bank branch in its place.

Oh yes -- and two traffic circles -- a new concept there; their City Engineer must have heard how great they are -- on State Route 89 inside the city limits, and another four or five on the way back toward I-17 south of town. As traffic circles are a foreign concept, each cardinal entry point had illuminated, gas generator powered signage explaining their use. The fumes and noise are only remporary, right?

Well, it's the last night in town, and so we decided to go to Pinnacle Peak Patio; the resturant may have opened to the public in 1957 (per its website last updated 2007), but their display cabinets show postcards and envelopes from WWII simply addressed to 'John Doe; Pinacle Peak; Phoenix'. The waitress, proud of her new leather belt, and 'new in town' still bearing a California accent, came to the table. Once we indicated we had been eating there for nearly 20 years, she blurted out that the place is 'to close next March, or mebbe a year later as the developer "gave an extension"' before it is to be knocked down for yet another 'resort community' near Troon. She had heard about those other places, 'though. Seeing my reaction, she offered that 'perhaps they'll rebuild inside the new facility, but it will probably look like all the other chain restaurants'. Yeah, probably.

Well, at least a pack of coyotes woke me up at 2 in the morning, midweek, delighting at the moon; the red rocks watched silently as they have forever, and with any luck will continue to do.