Posted Saturday, 24 June 2006, 7:23 pm

As should be painfully clear by this juncture, I have no voice. Which is to say, if you took a map of the United States, and each throw of the dart were a post here, you’d have landed in a kibbutz in Israel, a yurt in Mongolia, and a walk-up flat in Liverpool.

Oh my I am so darned clever aren’t I!

So, I’m struggling. I’ve tried a handful of different directions – which isn’t to say that I consciously said ‘hey let’s try this’, but rather I’ve gone where the mood strikes me (which perhaps suggests some mood modifiers may be in order).

This is hardly a blog. Observational humor? Er, I suppose. Quirky, odd posts? Er, I suppose. Earnest attempts at earnest observations of earnest political issues, earnestly committed? Er, I guess. Completely pointless bon mots, tossed out seemingly in desparation? Uh, yeah.

I don’t have the self-discipline to have a ‘theme’ for my blog, other than this ever so pretty WordPress theme with the pale colors. I’ve never been terribly self-disciplined. In fact, I have almost no self-discipline at all. Other than when it comes to taking care of customers – that’s where I funnel all of my disciplined energy.

I’ve been a Unix admin for….well, I’m in my thirteenth year doing it. Before that, I was a Unix user for the previous eight years (what’s the distinction? maybe I’ll explain it in the next thrilling chapter here). So all told, I’ve been enveloped in the world of Unix for twenty-one years – nearly half my life (I’m 46).

Running servers means watching servers. Watching servers means serving the server. I have a dozen system ‘tests’ that are performed on my systems every two minutes. If anything fails a test, I get a page.

And boy do I get pages. Most are throwaways – notifications that somethings a little out of bounds, but not causing a problem for customers.

But there I am, being notified, at all hours of the day and night. Which means effectively as long as I have customers, I’m a slave to the servers I run. This past February, I got on an airplane for the first time in twelve years. The last time was to go to my grandmother’s funeral in Washington DC.. Twelve years without ever being much more than a hundred miles from my servers – so that if there were a problem, I could rush down there and fix it. It was an amazing leap of faith to take that week in Arizona, for that matter.

Hey, look. here we are well into yet another blog entry, and….what the heck is the point of this post? What am I trying to say?

There’s one blessing: nobody’s reading. Well, one poor sap seems to be reading occasionally. I feel sorry for him. Or he feels sorry for me. Something like that. Hi Peter!


Journey Into Self-Indulge


kludge said:

Your a blog machine paul! Look at all these post! Planes crack me up. Why do I need a buckle? If the plane fell out of the sky would my inflatable seat and 1968 style lap buckle do anything other that make me easy to identify after the crash? Row 5 seat 7, no need to find his wallet!If my plane goes down, I’m switching seats with some old lady just to make them work a little harder.

Monday, 26 June 2006, 10:02 am | Permalink

you know, i never thought of it that way!

i have seen the light. thank’s kludgeroonie!

Monday, 26 June 2006, 10:10 am | Permalink


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