Paul's Down-Home Page

Dad’s boat had a radio; I say “had” because someone stole it over the winter, while the boat was in dry storage. This is a little surprising for two reasons: it wasn’t a very good radio, and the thief didn’t take the sleeve that it fits into. For Dad’s birthday, I wanted to get him a replacement, so I went shopping from the comfort of my recliner. First stop was West Marine, where I found a tiny assortment of overpriced, junky-looking radio. Next, I plugged “marine radio” into Google and found Rock the Boat. THis is what I love about the Internet– a niche-focused retailer that concentrates only on one small area and does it really well. They had the radio I wanted, so I ordered it. When I arrived, I found that it was black, despite the website picture that showed a white radio (which was what I wanted, as the boat’s dash is a dazzlingly white expanse of fiberglass). I mailed the Rock the Boat folks, and they quickly dispatched UPS to pick up the black unit while simultaneously sending out the correct unit. It arrived in plenty of time for Dad’s birthday, and they could not have been more friendly or courteous. I would be very happy to do business with them again (as long as it’s not the result of someone stealing this radio…)

Proudly Serving My Corporate Masters is subtitled “What I Learned in Ten Years As a Microsoft Programmer”. If only that were true! Instead, we get about 145 pages of what it’s like to work on MS software projects, followed by another 100+ pages of apologia for various Microsoft-related issues, including out-of-date explanations of the MS antitrust trial and other competitive issues (see for yourself at the author’s site). I really wanted to like Barr’s book, and parts of it (like the list of ancient dialects of BASIC– I remember most of those, dang it!) brought back happy memories of my own time in the early PC world. Ultimately, though, the book doesn’t live up to its billing; Barr spends almost no time talking about the actual experience of being a developer at MS (except to rant about the breaking-the-build process), which is why I wanted to read the book in the first place.
Some good did come of it: I found the Old Computer Museum and went on a nostalgia tear. Final score: not recommended, unless you can find it in a library.

Thomas Ricks wrote one of my favorite-ever books, an account of Marine Corps recruit training titled Making the Corps. When I learned that he’d written a novel, A Soldier’s Duty, I was excited to read it; now that I’ve read it, I think my excitement was mostly justified. Ricks’ book delves into a knotty question, shining a sly, knowing light on the modern military as he does so.
The two primary characters are both Army majors, Buddy Lewis and Cindy Sherman. Each is an aide to a four-star Army general, but the two generals (Shillingsworth, somewhat of a plodder and the Army Chief of Staff, and Ames, a conniving, charismatic, and amoral rival) have very, very different views on the necessity of following the orders of their political leadership. After a debacle in which US troops needlessly die on a pointless mission, the stage is set for the central plot to unfold. Ames directs the actions of a shadowy group known as the Sons of Liberty; their actions skate right along the border between free speech (protected) and violating military orders (illegal)… until they cross that line.
The key to this book for me was that Ames’ portrayal was semi-sympathetic. He doesn’t want to be the President, but he feels an obligation to ensure that the political leadership is not wasting the lives of US troops. I find this attitude to be exactly what one would expect in a senior military leader, but it is unfortunately absent in some notable cases (where is William Westmoreland when you need him? Oh, that’s right; he’s in Hell.) On the other hand, military officers take an oath to uphold the Constitution, and that’s the pivotal question here: do members of the military lose their right to political dissent? What separates legal dissent from illegal failure to obey orders, and what obligation do military members have to follow orders that are not clearly illegal but nonetheless immoral? It’s a thought-provoking question; it doesn’t have an easy answer, and Ricks doesn’t pretend so. There are certainly signs of this being a freshman novel, but they’re relatively minor. Recommended.