"Peter if you find yourself in the same job after 5 years you have to stop and ask yourself, 'Why are you still here?'"
Chris Robertson was the first IT boss I ever had. He loved to talk, he could type 90+ words per minute and he had me convinced that IP Subneting was the hardest thing I would ever have to learn.
His theory was simple on jobs though, "In IT we aren't in it for the long haul. You should invest about 3-5 years per job. If you are looking to move on, an employer will want to know why you either left too early or stayed too long."
I've been at my current job for 8 years. That's the longest I've been anywhere. It's hard to stay in one place for so long, I feel like I'm losing my edge. Like I'm getting numb to this one environment and this one way of doing things. After a while you stop questioning why you are building networks the way you are and just accept it.
"That's the way we've always done it," is a sure sign that you don't have a clue why your design hasn't changed.
I like it here. I have an office, a stable network and I'm finally comfortable with my co-workers, but there is always a part of me looking to move on. Chris Robertson's words ring in my ear. "Why are you still here?"
His advice was given almost 15 years ago. It was the reason I left that job and the next two. I was reaching for the moon and stuffing my matress with stock options that were going to make me rich. I was trading my 9-5 Win95 knowledge for 60 hour weeks and the promise of learning network design and telecom troubleshooting.
In all reality, I owe Chris my career. If not for him I would have stayed a PC tech at a giant company and could see myself there today.
I love networking. So I made the right choice, but I wonder what he would say today. In this new economy there are people who would kill for a steady job. I suppose I should be happy, content and learn to live with this new phase.
I suppose it could be a lot worse. I could have ended up as a manager...
Peoms Composed in Training
"The world is in the glovebox,"
I postulate to my peer
His eyes were wide and bright
Expecting something wise
"Scratch that," I said
The glovebox is full of Starbucks napkins.
-Peter Brown 2013
"I murdered something beautiful!"
I shouted down the hall
The placid gaze from wife and child
Proved that they were confused
I killed a moth with pretty wings
I smashed it on the wall
It was only self defense,
For it flew up my nose!
-Peter Brown 2013
I postulate to my peer
His eyes were wide and bright
Expecting something wise
"Scratch that," I said
The glovebox is full of Starbucks napkins.
-Peter Brown 2013
"I murdered something beautiful!"
I shouted down the hall
The placid gaze from wife and child
Proved that they were confused
I killed a moth with pretty wings
I smashed it on the wall
It was only self defense,
For it flew up my nose!
-Peter Brown 2013
Stalking Minotaur's
I used to love stalking minotaurs. There was a certain patch of earth not far from my house where one could test their mettle against that voracious beast. As you lay there on your belly, inching ever closer, you could hear the sound of their hot breath as they guarded their plunder. The steady clomping of their hooves tapping out a warning cadence to any would be harassers. "This way is trouble. Steer clear mortals, if you know what is good for you."
The way the wind played at their thick mane sending the overbearing odor of sweat and blood right to your nostrils. The smell of death heightened your already keen senses. The thrill of the hunt sent your heart beating a thousand beats per minute and there was nothing in your life that could even begin to excite you as much as that did. You leapt out and seized the creature by the horns and fought will all your being until you brought the monster down!
Then one day you woke up and said to yourself, "Are you ready to catch a minotaur today? Are you ready to leap onto the back of that sweaty beast and hold on to his perilous horns and not let go?" Knowing that any failure when mounted on his back means certain death from both his ferocious prongs or giant iron axe.
"So, do you want to go stalking today?!"
"Naw... Not really feeling it. I think I'll just go throw some rocks at fawns."
Fawns. Fawns are nothing like minotaurs. They have no fire, no thrill and they are nothing to be afraid of.
They're so sheepish that they just stand there and pretend like it isn't even happening. Like some beaten down man in line at the grocery store. There he is holding on to his basket of with female sanitary napkins, soy milk and all-bran cereal. He is already humiliated by the selection of his basket and now, he is also abused. He tries to ignore the strangers child that is wildly thrashing and bumping into him. The fawn man just stands there, taking it, hoping the checkout will be over soon. He would never have the fire in his belly for simple confrontation with an irresponsible parent, much less and all out brawl with a rock tosser.
As the rocks fly there is no hunt, no thrill. He barely even raises his head in protest. He just gives you that sheepish look, as if to say, "I'm not sure what I did to deserve this attack. All I wanted was a cup of tea and some all-bran cereal. Why don't you go pick on the centaurs?"
Picking on fawns passes the time and at least you're out in the open air. But then one day you realize that months have gone by without really challenging yourself. Without a hunt, without the possibility of death, your senses have dulled and the clomping sound of hooves is now a terror inducing sound.
Why have you come back to this patch of earth? Do you really think you have what it takes to tackle a foe this large? As you lie in the grass and listen for the sound of hooves you wonder, will his be your last hunt...
Confessions of an Agressive Driver
I hate the way you drive. It actually makes me crazy. I think you're stupid, incapable and slow. If you are in my way, you are nothing more than an imbecile who I would gladly do away with if the missile launch button glued to my steering wheel was anything more than wishful thinking. I confess, I am an aggressive driver. I'm a full throttle, bumper sucking, loud mouthed, road hog. I also know that you are a lousy driver.Why is it every time I get in my car, some geriatric, Cadillac driving jerk decides to pull out right in front of me? You know the one, they drive at 10 miles BELOW the speed limit, looking outside their windows like they're hunting for garage sale signs so they can swoop in and buy some happening depression glass or a 1970's brown checked kitchen apron they're been hankering for?
When the light turns green they're still checking their perm in the gigantic rear view mirror instead of riding that accelerator, like it says to do in the drivers handbook. No use honking, it will only slow them down, as they look around bewildered until they finish adjusting the bench seat or talking about the bridge game with their dying spouse. IT MAKES ME CRAZY.
I can honestly feel the muscles in my shoulders tightening and the red glow rising up my neck.
"MOVE YOUR BOAT GRANDMA! WE STILL HAVE PLACES TO GO BEFORE WE DIE!"
And it's not just the extremely old. It's also all you loonies with your iThis and eThats in the car. Why are we taking pictures from behind the windshield or talking to Mary-Lou when there is driving to do? You don't see Richard Petty or Michael Schumacher chatting with the pit crew about which weight of oil they'd like to try on the next stop, cause, THEY'RE TOO BUSY DRIVING!
sigh... [exhale] ...okay. Calming down. I'll just pull over into the slow lane and take a quick breather....
Why are you braking?! What... Why are you. I cannot even see around you. What possessed you to buy the largest black SVU in the FREAKING WORLD anyway?! All I see are shadows of bodies moving inside. Are you having a picnic in there. Are you bathing your children. What could you possibly be slowing for when all the other lanes are speeding by... too fast for me to even merge. Now me and this colossal line of followers are stuck behind you...
An accident. You were inspecting an accident. Fantastic. Were you able to lend assistance? Did you help the wounded? I'm sure the police and fire department appreciated your assistance. No. You just needed to SLOW DOWN AND LOOK!? YOU know what! I didn't even glance at it. I stayed cemented to your bumper the entire time. You know why. BECAUSE IT HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH ME?!) #)%$ *&@!
I hate the way you drive. All of you. People slower than me are jerks and folks who pass me are maniacs. I think I just stole that from someone, but right now, I don't care. I just want to get off this road before I start ramming into Hondas and Fords....
I remember when...
- Watermelons had seeds
- Televisions had dials
- Streets had payphones
- Computers had floppies
- Supermarkets had arcade games
- Only doctors or drug dealers had pagers
- No one had a cellular phone
- People wore tube socks
- I made my girlfriend a mix tape
- VCRs were amazing
- Costco clerks read off the SKU numbers
- Stores called the bank when you wrote a check
- Macy's used a carbon machine on your credit card
- McDonald's used styrofoam packages
- Rabbit ears were on our living room TV
- The first time I played Frogger at home
- People thought pegged pants looked cool
- Taco Bell had a 59¢ menu
- I had to hand write my school reports
- I tried to walk and keep my discman from skipping
Monday's Passing
I just had a very good Monday. I came in to work today, wondering what I was going to be doing, and ended up spending 8 hours shooting trouble on an elusive issue. At 4:16 the solution was acquired and the inevitable clarity of hindsight clicked into place. I looked up and realized that I had consumed 1 liter of coffee, a banana, a smoothie and most of my day. I found that I was completely happy. If you don't have a job you enjoy to do, I'm sorry. I've worked in plenty of places where jumping ship was always on my mind. There were days that I spent at Best Buy were I just wanted to punch someone square in the jaw. Of course, there were also great days. Days when I learned something new, or enjoyed the company of my co-workers. The trouble is, it's much easier to recall the bad days? Why is that?
I suppose it is because, we tend to appreciate them more, in a way. You can recount them to friends. You garner sympathy or laughs depending on how you tell it. You use them to build a little castle of woe, that can then be showed off to your family and acquaintances. It makes you feel good to wallow in the bad.
You get the attention of others, "Look at all I had to endure today." Attention is addicting (Ask anyone with a blog) and people tend to dwell on the negative rather than the positive. It's our culture, where sarcasm and cynicism are rewarded as wit and humor. Or sympathy is doled out while we simultaneously elevate ourselves as better over those who's woes we are listening to.
Believe me, I understand it. In fact I'm a master of it. I need to curb that tendency.
Why is it that no one shares with friends if they had a good day?
"Had this horrible customer that called me a 'sniffle stiffing jerk-off' in front of my boss!"
"What?! That's horrible!"
"Yeah, and I'm not even sure that I know what that means. What about you."
"Me? I had a great day! So-"
"Oh... Sue? What about you?"
So why can't a near perfect work day not be worth noting? We should all get excited when we say, "I had a great day." Instead of just thinking it's no big deal.
Most of us have to work for a living. Considering the sheer amount of our lives that we will spend working for our paycheck, we should be actively looking for the good in that day. Today was good, and I hope I remember it the next time I have a bad day.
Monday was good. I've got great hopes for Tuesday...
My last 5 Facebook Posts
Considering how few amusing things I've generated in the last 2 months, I thought you all might appreciate something...
Dec 25: So, everyone's phone is off, I'm standing in the rain locked outside of my empty house with no keys, and I need to use "the facilities". Making Christmas memories...
Jan 2: I cannot stop overeating. Luckily my pants are now so tight I'm getting light headed and might just pass out. Seems to be some sort of fail safe method...
Jan 3: I like Lumberjack Games. If more sports had axes and chainsaws, I think I could get into them more...
Jan 9: I've only had one person ever give me their number and asked me to call them. It was a very attractive man with a pale blue knit sweater tied around his shoulders. I never found out what he wanted....
Jan10: I'm such a poor speller that Outlook wished to change what I thought was 'inconvenience' to 'incontinence'. I said, "no" as I wanted to keep the email a bit more professional...
Dec 25: So, everyone's phone is off, I'm standing in the rain locked outside of my empty house with no keys, and I need to use "the facilities". Making Christmas memories...
Jan 2: I cannot stop overeating. Luckily my pants are now so tight I'm getting light headed and might just pass out. Seems to be some sort of fail safe method...
Jan 3: I like Lumberjack Games. If more sports had axes and chainsaws, I think I could get into them more...
Jan 9: I've only had one person ever give me their number and asked me to call them. It was a very attractive man with a pale blue knit sweater tied around his shoulders. I never found out what he wanted....
Jan10: I'm such a poor speller that Outlook wished to change what I thought was 'inconvenience' to 'incontinence'. I said, "no" as I wanted to keep the email a bit more professional...
Critial Errors Invites Kludge Spot Over
Gentle Reader;I received a guest blogging invitation from my friend Andy over at his review blog, Critical Errors. Considering that I haven't been blogging here, I jumped at the chance to force my hand at writing something.
I was asked to do a Christmas themed review post. I decided on a review of snow. So, I encourage you to drop in an have a look!
Hopefully that jump start will help me post more here as well.
Thank you for your continued patronage.
Kludge
Editor and Chief
kludgespot.blogspot.com
For the Love of Ants
They aren't slimy like a worm. They aren't poisonous like a millipede. They don't consume their spouses like a preying mantis. They don't sting like a bee or stink like a beetle. I've never heard them disturb my peace like those loud, good for nothing grasshoppers. They don't suck your blood like a tick or make you itch like a louse. They are just devoted to their work.
They are true blue and loyal. They always obey their mother, and work tirelessly for the betterment of their colony. Ants can carry things much heavier than themselves. As any entomologist will tell you, that makes them the perfect Sherpa to scale any mountian with a pack full of food.
"Wait. Where did you guys get all that food?"
"My counter top!"
"How many of you are there?!"
"Thousands!"
What can be more lonesome than an ant? A filthy dirty scavenger! What creature could be a better example of a low life bottom feeder? Bees are like the farmers of the insects world. Cultivating pollen which will be converted into honey for their nourishment. They work the plants and add to the food supply of other animals. Worms recycle garbage into rich useable soil. And while quite macabre, at least the preying mantis supplies her own dinner. (I still hate grasshoppers though, nothing is changing that opinion.)
But ants?! What do they do. They invade! They steal. They do it so blatantly that you cannot ignore them. One or two become dozens. Dozens become hundreds and hundreds become thousands, until your entire kitchen counter top is black shifting mass of larceny!
STOP TAKING MY FOOD!
Ants. There is no reasoning with their kind. All they understand is violence. I am a murder. I've killed hundreds. Thousands. They keep coming, but I will be victorious. I plan to eradicate an entire civilization. I have no remorse. How can you? If you show any weakness they will exploit it. There are no treaties, boarders or agreements. No, there is only one option; the ants must die.
The Mayans Were Right
I have been neglecting my blog, not because I have nothing to say, but because I cannot think of anything amusing. The truth is lately I've been rather depressed. As far as I'm concerned 2012 has lived up to all its dire predictions and I will not be the least surprised if the world came to a fiery end before I complete this posting.March 2012
Dear Diary,
I have to admit, I'm feeling pretty good. I've lost over 30lbs of nasty clinging body fat since January 1st. My clothes feel better, I wake up on time and work has become rather interesting. 2012 is looking like a fairly good year!
April 2012
Dear Diary,
The wife thinks she's pregnant. I was supportive. but honestly I have to say, When a man spends a week recovering from a painful operation that will 'stop you from producing any more offspring' you presume all that pain and suffering had a point! It's like a contract. You let them slice open a sensitive area, while you're awake, and in return you don't have to buy any more diapers! I feel like someone is in breach of contract. Dear Lord in heaven, I think I need to go throw up again...
May 2012
Dear Diary,
Even though it turns out that I am completely infertile (thank you all that is holy) we have decided to sell our house. Hopefully it will all go according to plan...
June 2012
Dear Diary,
When I said hopefully it will all go according to plan, I meant my plan. Not some crazy persons plan! Some lunatics, going-to-walk-through-your-house-every-4-hours-and-make-you-leave-for-an-hour-at-a-time-but-not-put-a-offer-in-on-your-house, plan. That's not the plan I was working from. I cannot imagine this can go on forever.
August 2012
Dear Diary,
Apparently it can go on forever. Actually that's not completely true. We did get an offer, that after 17 days into escrow was pulled out from under us like the proverbial rug. I have nothing but good thoughts for Jose and Nubia with dreams of dry rot, infestation and adjustable rate mortgages with a non reputable leading houses in their immediate future.
September 2012
Dear Diary,
After two more deals have fallen through, we've decided to take the house off the market. I suggested we burn it to the ground in celebration. Patricia seems against the idea. Maybe she'll warm up to. Get it?!
September 2012
Dear Diary,
Work sucks. I had to skip a training, got bumped off the one interesting project this year and now I cannot find a single reason to be motivated to come in and work. Well... I do have to pay my mortgage. Is that irony or just a terribly sad truth of life?
September 2012
Dear Diary,
It's a good thing I lost those 34 lbs in March because if I hadn't I would be 70lbs heavier right now and not just 36lbs....
November 2012
Dear Diary,
The election is over. I don't want to talk about it...
November 2012
Dear Diary,
December is fast approaching. I'm looking forward to 2013. Or an asteroid falling on San Francisco and sending us all into the drink. I'm not sure which sounds better at this point.
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