Category Archives: Musings

Joel Spolsky has a great book review this month that tears into the meaty topic of why Windows and UNIX programmers are so different. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not because Windows sucks, nor (as suggested by the comments here) is it because Windows programmers are all brainwashed. Joel claims it’s a simple matter of cultural differences, and that’s true to a very large extent. In my own career, I’ve written code for VMS, various flavors of UNIX, Windows, and the classic Mac OS, and I can certainly finger the cultural differences that underlie each of their APIs and programming models. It’s just that one cultural assumption most UNIX programmers bring is that if it’s not done their way it’s wrong… how very American of them.
And, since Jeremy wondered why Joel has a fan club… he writes consistently interesting essays. Whether or not you agree with them, they’re always thought-provoking, which is more than can be said of lots of other writers.

Jeremy had an interesting post about the difference between writing and explaining, which he sees as two sometimes separate topics. I’ve had the same experience he describes: it’s usually easier to explain something in a conversational way (even if it’s via email or IM) than it is to sit down and write an explanation from scratch. When you’re writing, you don’t have the same information about your audience’s assumptions and knowledge that you do when you’re standing next to someone at the whiteboard.
My solution has been twofold. First, I tend to write like I talk; one consistent comment I’ve gotten from readers of my books and columns is that they like my conversational style (although I do have to write less conversationally for more formal audiences). The other is to treat my writing like a conversation; at least for books, I actively try to find volunteer reviewers with a wide range of experience levels, then I push them to give me good feedback. This helps a great deal, especially if you can find people to bounce ideas off as you go. It helps if you’re really familiar with your audience and the things they want to know, which is why I spend so much time talking to Exchange and Windows administrators in the larger community.
Of course, neither of these approaches actually helps you get the stupid writing done in the first place. For that, I recommend Heinlein’s Five Rules, as amended by Robert Sawyer.

In this week’s column, I wrote:

Many administrators I know like spicy food. (I’m not sure why. Having grown up in southern Louisiana, I have a large extended family that glories in eating stuff hot enough to peel paint; maybe I just gravitate to people who remind me of my cousins.) I recently learned of Blair’s Death Rain habanero potato chips, supposedly the hottest chip you can buy. I have some on order; if you’re interested, drop me an email message and I’ll let you know whether they’re a worthy gift for the snack-happy admin on your list.

So, I go look in the mail folder where column comments go, and there are seven or eight messages from people wanting to know more. This is unusual, insofar that a typical column will generate one or two responses, and this one’s only two days old. I don’t even have the chips yet, but it’s cool to see my linkage between Exchange admins and spicy food being experimentally confirmed.
For my readers: I ordered the chips from IronQ.com. They were $30 for a mixed case of 2oz bags. We’re eating them at our holiday party, so I’ll post a full report once I’ve tested them.

If you do a Feedster search for Robichaux, you’ll quickly find Julian Robichaux‘s site. Turns out he’s an expert on Lotus Notes, the biggest competitor of the main product I specialize in. Since there aren’t all that many people named “Robichaux” in the world in the first place, I wonder exactly how we’re related. Hey, Julian, if you read this and decide to come over to the light side we’d love to have you!

As if the my son’s inexplicable passion for all things Wolverine wasn’t bad enough (at least Matthew can gleefully say “Michigan wucky!”), it turns out that Michigan takes, and files, DNA samples from all babies born in the state. ‘Scuse me, but I don’t see a compelling state interest in gathering DNA fingerprints for every live birth. Well, wait a minute– I do see one, but I don’t like it. I understand, accept, and support the idea behind doing DNA-based screening for health problems, but that’s not the same as maintaining the samples “indefinitely“.
This came across Politech today:

When our son Dylan was born at the University of Michigan Hospital, the blood sample was taken without parental consent and over my explicit objections. Two techs who worked for the state drew the blood sample, placed five drops on the top of a carefully marked card, and left without speaking to anyone else. Several doctors came in ahead of the techs, began giving us discharge instructions at the time the sample was taken, and they stood in my way as I tried to approach Dylan. They couldn’t understand how I would mind that a blood sample was being gathered by the state, merely saying that “it’s required by law” and that “it doesn’t hurt (too much)”. They later gave me several pamphlets explaining the importance of newborn screening. (Indeed, it is, but I can ask my doctor to do it too)
I spoke with Harry Hawkins of the Michigan Department of Community Health, who assured me that the samples were kept at an undisclosed warehouse which
locked behind a chain link fence, and that they would be destroyed after 21 1/2 years. However, he agreed to destroy the sample if both parents requested it.
His mother and I sent Harry Hawkins a letter stating, “Please destroy all samples of our son’s blood. If any identifying data such as a DNA fingerprint has been obtained from his sample, please destroy that data also.” (with all of the required details below)
I later received a notarized form indicating that the blood sample had been destroyed and witnessed. There was no mention of any DNA information, but I have no reason to believe that they gathered any, so I don’t intend to pursue the matter further.

Last year, it was German spy underwear. This year, it’s “hostile undergarments for smiling professionals“. Either that or Pokemon. (Actually, I’m kind of thinking of an “evil engineer” T-shirt for John, although technically it’s not a hostile undergarment).

I present technical sessions at conventions fairly often– two or three times a year. Most of the time, these are public events, like TechEd or ExchangeConnections. This week, I’ve been presenting a four-day security course to an audience of about 150 Microsoft employees (well, really about 140 MS folks and ten or so people from partners like Unisys and HP). Presenting at an internal conference (MS calls them “airlifts” because the attendees are flown in from all over the place) is quite a bit different from my typical presentation.
First, of course, the audience is quite different. This group is split pretty much evenly between technical account managers (for some of whom, regrettably, the “technical” is silent) and support engineers who work in MS’ Premier organization. These people are, on average, very intelligent; more to the point, MS-only audiences have very little tolerance for indecision on the part of the instructor. If they ask a question, and you don’t know the answer, you’d better be prepared to say so and not try to spin out something plausible, or it’s curtains. Of course, they usually know their own products pretty well, so their expectations for the technical level of the presentations and labs is high.
The atmosphere is very different, too. In this case, the attendees’ job performance is judged in large part on how satisfied their customers are with MS products and services (one TAM told me that CSAT, as it’s called, makes up 25% of his annual performance rating). That means that everyone here is focused on learning stuff, not on gallivanting around Seattle and seeing the sites (of course, it’s been rainy and cold every day that I’ve been here, so maybe that helps). Class starts at 8am and goes until 5 or 6pm each day, and this class started on Friday and continued, through the weekend, for seven days. Everyone’s working hard. Even though everyone has a laptop or Tablet PC, I’ve been pleased to see tha tduring lab time, almost everyone is working on the labs and not checking their email, playing pinball, or otherwise goofing off.
The venue is very different, too. At a typical public event, it’s held at a convention center or hotel. Ours is being held at the Bell Harbor Conference Center. Sounds pretty swank, right? Actually, one of the BHCC’s functions is as an embarkation port for cruise ships. Our classroom is a big concrete area that is normally used as the baggage claim area. Lots of exposed pipes and wiring, several “CUSTOMS: THIS WAY” signs overhead, and sporadic (and noisy) heating. Atypically, the food has been excellent, which makes for a nice change.
Speaking of food: on Tuesday, John drove down and we ate at the hotel restaurant, the loftily named Fish Club by Todd English. I had salmon baked in phyllo with rosemary cream sauce, along with something billed on the menu as “authentic Louisiana seafood gumbo”. Both were good, although Arlene could have given the gumbo makers a few tips (hint: lay off the red pepper so people can taste the other ingredients). The Seattle paper’s food critic didn’t think too highly of it, but I thought it was pretty good (then again, I never met a piece of salmon I didn’t like).
So, after four days of being on my feet and talking for 8-10 hours each day, it will be a welcome relief to return home and have only four people, instead of 150, talking to me at the same time 🙂 One big hit: I was able to watch a couple episodes of 24 on the laptop, which was a great for a little pre-bedtime relaxation. Thank you, Mr. Tivo.

No, not that Word of Wisdom.

It is not true that everything tastes better when it sits on a Ritz. Skittles taste awful that way.
— Kim Cameron-Webb

So, this diagram shows how the process of moving your telephone number between cellular providers is going to work. I bet it can be simplified thusly:

1. You contact the new cellphone company
2. You tell them you want your number moved
3. They contact your old company
4. The old company ignores your request
5. You ask the new company about it
6. They blame the old company
7. You contact the old company to investigate
8. They blame the new company

What could be simpler? (Hat tip: Dennis)

Well, some of them, anyway. Check out these movie posters. (Hat tip: Phil).