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Sphere of ArchivesOctober 8, 2001You're a Good Host, Charlie BrownSince I have the largest pad, it was decided unanimously among the guys that I should host Thanksgiving. We meted out the tasks -- I would get white wine, chocolate cake, and prepare the house; Jason would bring (bags o') salad and garlic bread; Steve and his girlfriend would bring vegetables and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie; Ken and his wife would get the turkey, stuffing and gravy. I definitely had the bigger task. On Saturday, I shopped and shopped. I rejected buying a whole dining room set, opting instead for a utility table and cloth. I bought a whole bunch of kitchen utensils and the required pots and bowls that I will probably never use again. And I cleaned the house, including the spiderwebs outside on the window sills. On the Monday afternoon, I went to Ken's to help with the turkey. I was ordered to finely chop vegetables for the stuffing, which Ken packed solidly into the bird. It was put in the oven. Then we took a trip to one of the CHEO houses with some friends of his wife. Every year the Children's Hospital holds a fund raiser, and the prizes are newly-built monster homes plus some cash for furniture. Ken has bought $100 tickets for the last three years. We saw the second prize, a $300,000 two-storey bungalow in Orleans. The open concept layout had the expected oversized rooms filled with bits of large furniture. The walls were neutral yellow and white. The basement was entirely open and unfinished, and the double-car garage looked huge. It was impressive, but not my kind of house. After picking up the turkey at Ken's, we went to my place. I had just gotten the wine out when people started arriving. The women commandeered the kitchen, so the men were forced to lounge around in the living room. The supper was great. As usual, Ken said I was a good host, though I did very little. There wasn't much conversation in the way of heated arguments, just chatting as we listened to Mozart in the background. For some reason, after dessert the women went down into the basement. I thought they were taking a tour of the place, but they were down there a while. I was worried Ken's wife would find his secret love under the stairs (I had covered it with a blanket earlier, just in case). I suggested he go down there to check it out, but wasn't concerned. Just after that, they came upstairs again, red in the face. They had been using my weights, evidently trying to shed those newly gained pounds before they had a chance to settle. And finally, the evening ended. My fridge was filled with leftovers (a week's worth of food for me), and the dishes were piled in the dishwasher (which I found out later didn't work). The women left first. The rest of us finished off the open wine and beer bottles in the foyer. October 12, 2001I WILL Do It... TomorrowAt work today, a gentleman from the newly acquired Carling campus half of the support group joined me in my cubicle to work on a network configuration for the UMTS project. While we tested the scripts, he asked me about the corporate gym, because he wanted to get in shape. It was not a post-Thanksgiving resolution, as I suggested, but an attempt to stick with a program. It got me to thinking about my own recent lapse that is entirely not my fault (I've been working 9 - 10 hour days). I really feel bad about not going to taekwondo class. One of the members, who also doesn't go often, started nagging me a bit. Plus, I need to do more cardio to get ready for skating season. And now with the prospect of actually knowing someone at the gym, I have even more pressure to stay in shape. So here's my plan -- reduce the gym days from five or six to three or four, and have two or three days for TKD practice at home so the instructor doesn't take away my belt when I show up. I'm going to get right on it, the sooner the better. Well, maybe Monday. October 12, 2001Storm Clouds on the Screen SaverOh dear. My manager pulled me aside today, talking in a hushed tone that made me feel glad for having updated my resume. What a relief that it was just a request to prepare for my Christmas holiday to be cancelled. There are rumours (strong hints) that management will relocate everyone in the Woodline building to the Carling campus in the west end, and it will be done over the holidays so that lab work won't be disrupted. I'd be needed to take everything apart and put it back together properly. But why the whispers? Oh, yes, it's expensive to move people from place to place, so I'm expecting some layoffs just before that. Which gave me a little more relief, because my manager expects me to be around in January. I sent my resume to the federal government IT department anyway, just in case. October 16, 2001Blame ThrowerWoe is me. I spent today comparing a series of Passport provisioning files line by line because of a project manager's complaint. The whole system is wrong, he said. Why aren't we following the one known good configuration (which never actually existed) that everyone agreed was the baseline, and there had better be a good explanation at the meeting tomorrow morning. Blech. I deleted the e-mail. My manager came by and I complained about this project manager's unspecific complaint. He said that this is a sensitive time for the project, and everyone is tense, so just ignore it. There was no significant difference between the files. I found out later that the project manager tried to ping from one device to another, and failed. The fix was a minor configuration change on a routing component that wasn't in the "known good" system. I had to add it to get things working. Now, except for a tricky timing problem on an electrical circuit, everything's in pretty good shape (on paper). Nevertheless, I know I'll be asked to change all of the IP addresses just so they match up with the "golden" system. It could be worse. A co-worker approached me to get advice on a report that is due for the meeting tomorrow. He was only told this morning that it is a top priority, super important. He doesn't know anything about the system he has to report on, and doesn't know why he was given the task. Plus, the template uses all sorts of acronyms that aren't explained, and refers to filenames without providing any context or where they might be stored. There was also no author or contact name for help; it must have been provided by the team in France. October 18, 2001Spend 'em If You Got 'EmThe people have spoken. I have a mandate to shop. You might recall that a couple of weeks ago, I asked readers' opinions on what I should buy with my 205 "Club N" points. A total of four people responded. That's more than all of my previous polls combined! So, it looks like I'm getting the Coffee Bar, a Wine Rack and a Watch. When they arrive (if they arrive; there have been delivery problems in the past), I will take photos of myself rubbing the merchandise all over my body, for your vicarious pleasure.
October 20, 2001On The HuntKen and I were late getting to the paintball field, arriving 30 minutes late. It's on the back 70 acres of a farm west of Smith's Falls, just trees and grassy clearings filled with rough log or lumber structures and piles of old steel drums. Ken had brought all of his camouflage gear from his infantry days, along with the best pieces from his gun collection. I remarked to Ken on two things: the low regard the military appears to have for fashionable style, and the weird size labels -- an eight-digit code rather than a "large" or "L". Ken ignored me. He said it was a perfect day for paintball, cool enough to be comfortable in the protective clothing, a bright sun overhead, a slight breeze. Eventually there were eight of us, divided into yellow and orange teams. We were issued standard guns, masks and bags of 500 balls. Then we followed the yellow-jersied referees to the first field. The first game was a simple assault through a circular "village" of three-sided whitewashed "buildings". The field was about 15 meters in diameter. The teams started at opposite ends. My team, the orange team, divided into pairs to circle left and right. My partner and I ended up in a structure half-way down the left side of the area, firing shots through the slats at a couple of the enemy in another similar structure. Eventually, our partners had cirled around and caught them from behind. The whole match must have lasted about two minutes. We had three more matches, all pretty much the same, but they got longer, I suppose because we were more experienced. The second game was "Capture the Flag". It took place in a forested area with a few connected clearings surrounded by thorny bushes, maples and pines. I decided to cover the main clearing while the others went a bit wide on a side trail. After some time, it was clear that the other team were using the same strategy. I sat there listening to the pops before heading through the thorns to come out behind the enemy camp. I got the flag and eliminated their defender quietly. I started heading back through the thorns, but I was spotted by Ken. I shot a wild shot and then ran through the rest of the forest. He took the clearing. Fortunately, he's out of shape, so I was still ahead. I saw his shots curving on either side of me. I was just three meters from our camp when he hit my leg. We played a second time, with similar tactics. I circled around back, but they had anticipated. The defender was hidden in the trees behind their camp and snuck up on me as I was getting the flag. The third game was a forest hunt, with no boundaries and a 10-minute time limit. By now, people's strategies were becoming clear. Only one man on the yellow team dared to take any risks by moving up. The rest found a good defensive position in front of a clear area and stayed there the entire game. Typically, they would stick to the trees around their camp. I'm glad I was on the orange team; we played harder, and it was fun. At the very start we would run as far up as we dared, and then carefully sneak up through the trails or the trees. Usually, at that point we'd get caught in a hail from the other team or the lone sniper sitting in the shade. After each match, there was a small break to allow people to reload and clean the paint off clothing and guns. The others spent the time going over the details of the game, where each person was, their motivations for being there. They talked about their attempts to hit the other team members, how the guns fired, the bullet trajectories, their reactions to being hit. They didn't talk about the pros and cons of particular strategies, nor did they discuss new ones. In a way, it was like watching hockey commentary. The fourth game was another "Capture the Flag" game, but in a different field. There were squares of nine structures surrounded by a few meters of clearing, with an X-shaped building housing the flag. The clear spaces seemed huge now. The catch was that the flag had to be brought to the enemy's camp. This definitely was meant to get people out of the defensive rut. It didn't work. The yellow team just kept their guns trained on the central building and shot at anyone who approached it or their area. The fifth game was "Barrel Ball", like the first game, except the field was dotted with piles of steel drums that offered much less protection. Both teams just hid behind barrels and fired everything they had. I tried to run up, but got shot immediately. The final game was "The Gauntlet," which really was just a fun way to waste any leftover ammunition. It was a patch of road with buildings on either side for cover. I did some commando moves by jumping over walls and rolling around, which cracked everyone up. At the end, the guys compared their war wounds, showing the bruises from close shots, and wiping the paint out of their hair. The ride home was quiet. Ken could barely move his legs. Getting out of the car and bending into the trunks were accompanied by loud groans. I waved a cheerful good-bye as he gingerly stepped into the lobby of his apartment building. October 24, 2001HeadcrusherMore politics at work, and somehow, yet again, I am the victim. It's this UMTS project. There are a bunch of new people, and they have to make names for themselves before they get fired. Plus, there are deadlines to be missed, and stern managerial e-mail messages which must be sent and replied to. For some reason beyond me, a couple of these UMTS people want to make the Operations Support group a scapegoat for every failure, while taking credit for every bit of work even if they did very little. I thought these people would want to keep our department on their side, since we know more about their project than they do, adn they rely on us for information and direction. Oh well. Too bad for me, I am the most prominent support person working on the project, and doing the most important and complicated part, so I get the most blame and the least credit. It's very stressful. But it's better than being fired. October 25, 2001A New Alumni ChapterA small party was held for the newest chapter of the Lakehead University Alumni. Free wine and cheese, that's what matters. I can't believe how some people work. More than a few work for government. To my mind, they get paid a lot for doing very little work. Some spend half their time day-trading or shopping on the web. Meanwhile, I'm working unpaid overtime, with no hope of a raise or a bonus until middle to late 2002. I did meet some nice people, though, including a tall blonde woman who runs a transportation lobbying firm. We didn't talk much, but before she left, she gave me her business card. I can't remember if I gave her mine. And I won a door prize. It's a cotton/polyester hooded pullover, with the new LU team logo on the front. It's perfect for the autumn weather. November 5, 2001Tidings of Great JoyWhoo-hoo! A whole hour of global-scale company propaganda. As long as you remember to buy your coffee before the seats fill up so you get a good view of one of the big-screen televisions. It's better than working, right? Yes, another rehearsed internal public relations stunt whose main purpose is damage/rumour control, though it's advertised as informative and inspiring. Who are they fooling? "Psst, nameless employees, here's some completely secret information that we're giving JUST TO YOU! We haven't told the Board of Directors, exchange brokers, lawyers, or the Securities and Exchange Commission." Right. More like wasting the productive time of thousands of people around the planet in order to create the illusion of leadership. I settled into my front seat with my large coffee. The conference hadn't started yet, and choral music was playing. Ooh, the angels are descending, bringing a holy message from on high. But it was the same message I've heard for the last three years -- you, nameless employee, are important (unless you've been fired), you need to be more creative/enthusiastic/productive (but you might be fired in the near future), and there will be no bouses or raises for the next year (except for upper management because it's in their contracts, and, um, you're fired). Why, just look at these marketing and financial charts based on unstated assumptions that forecast unparalleled growth. Don't think about why they all start at 1999, because nothing important happened before then. And remember, Nortel was the first company to start firing thousands of people. We're on the cutting edge of this market! Commercial Highlights
November 5, 2001Measure Twice, Cut Once. Measure Again, Cut Again. Measure Again.My friend Ken has started building his aquarium cabinet in my garage. He rooted through the stuff he's storing there to find a drummel sander, power drills and a circular saw, and he borrowed a two little table saws, and he bought some other tools that he really needed, such as a dowel hole maker, a special drummel attachement, some drill bits, spare circular saw blades, and three sets of clamps. We spent hours walking through RONA and Home Hardware looking for the right pieces of wood, and getting them professionally measured and cut at the store. As he was screwing the larger pieces together, I wondered out loud if it would have been cheaper just to buy a new cabinet, and he replied, "Sure, but this one will be better, stronger." Those who do not know history... In his relationship with his wife, the cabinet is "the other woman." He calls it his "baby," as in "I need to see my bay-bee." He hasn't spent a lot of time working on it, perhaps 12 hours in total, but his wife is terribly jealous. She claims he spends all his free time at my place. Plus, they just got a second daughter. I suppose she feels that Ken is now obligated to be in the same building as his family, at least on weekends. It probably won't be finished until next year, at this rate. Making a cabinet is really complicated. Sure, it looks like a hollow box with doors, but in reality it is a many-dimensioned logic puzzle that involves great technical knowledge, precision, patience, and bit of luck. And a carpenter's pencil ("They're better than regular pencils."). And a power sander ("I'm off by a quarter-inch on this side. I'll just sand it off."). I'm there for support -- literally; I hold the boards steady while he cuts and screws and hammers. At the end, he's going to owe me big time Tim Horton's coffee. November 6, 2001Bearer of the Immunity IdolI think the stress of the layoffs is getting to the director, my manager's manager. After what must have been a late-night snarfing sugar-saturated coffee and chocolate ho-hos in front of "scripted reality" shows, he crafted an "immunity idol" out of paper coffee cups and plastic utensils. This totem, presented to the valuable team member of the week, grants the bearer immunity from being fired for seven days. How reassuring. This week it was presented to me and a co-worker for our efforts on the UMTS project. I just couldn't get enthused about it. The co-worker didn't want to touch it, so I put it on top of my shelf on the cubicle skyline. I liked it better when they gave out cash. November 8, 2001Stretch OutYay, another two projects to work on. They're both based on the 1xRTT work I helped with last year. That means I'm an expert (while no-one else knows the technology). That means I'm valuable (in an underpaid-but-wouldn't-quit-now sort of way). I'm getting a warm feeling in my stomach. Oh, I spilled my coffee on my shirt. November 30, 2001Lunch With The ManagersFor the second week in a row, I was invited by chance to a lunch with the Operations managers and their favourites. So, yes, I am not a favourite, but I know the favourites and I guess I don't offend them. We went to Grace O'Malleys. The director mentioned that he got an e-mail from another manager about me. My manager and I joked that it was probably something negative. Politics. I sat across from the director, ordered the same beer he did (a pint of Stella Artois), talked a bit about squash because he plays squash. Conspiracy or coincidence: all of his squash partners have been fired. I hate waking up at 6:30 a.m. anyway. I even made a little small talk. All in all, a friendly, relaxed, non-opportunistic lunch. December 7, 2001The Silence of the LANsIt was eerily quiet today. The phones weren't ringing. The e-mail wasn't arriving. No emergencies. Not even a request to look into some minor problem or to tweak a device configuration. In this unnerving silence, I typed up my performance review papers or "Priorities" as they are officially named. The whole process never had much legitimacy. It's the old process of exaggerating performance to justify larger budgets, but with a new acronym and new forms to fill out. When the acronym was announced two years ago, the whole process was supposed to be about setting goals, listening to the customer, defining scopes. Well, who wants to do that? Especially when not meeting the self-set but very public goals are not met, or change daily because the managers really don't know what they're doing or where the technology is going. So it's the same old exercise. Basically, I changed the dates my last review forms, and added some stuff my manager insisted I put in to highlight the good work of the department. It's just a shame any raises probably won't appear until the third quarter of next year at the earliest. I could use that instant gratification right now. December 9, 2001Pizza Party at Eric'sIt was a sort of Christmas party. I'll take anything I can get. I convinced Ken and his family to have pizza at my place so I could use some coupons. That "Entertaining" coupon book has paid itself several times over. I got the pizza from MicoAngelo's. They don't deliver to Barrhaven, but they did allow me to use two "two-for-one" coupons for four pizzas. The food was delicious. Ken's family doesn't talk much. We made snarky comments at a dogshow on the Outdoor Life Network instead. Sadly, I neglected to take photos. December 11, 2001It's the Virus TalkingStupid Red Cross. Just because I had a nasty flu virus last week that forced me to take aspirin several times daily to dull the pain, they won't take my blood. "It's for your own safety," the nurse said. Whatever. Lousy disease-control guidelines. |
