Somewhat concerned tonight. Work

August 8, 2002

Somewhat concerned tonight. Work kept me pretty late, and I’m
concerned about a number of things there.

None of those, thankfully, are job security. I’m in what was
ostensibly supposed to be the last few days of a short contract,
and they’re doing things like getting me a cellphone, an e-mail
account and a land line. That said, the number of things I’ve been
asked to fix lately has shrunk. I’ve been doing things like inventory
and cleanup, which has involved getting dirty and sneezing a lot,
rather than actually fixing the damned tape backup robot, which would
involve freezing to death in the server room, but learning more.

I’m not sure how I’m going to break it to Geoff that I’d like
some more time with my Indy before I actually give it up. I’ve
figured out how to reinstall the thing, and now I’ve got to pester
into finding me the only CD he wasn’t gracious enough to provide
me with for this little project. He’s about the nicest guy around
when it comes to being-imposed-upon, but I’m a bit reluctant to
waste his time with this; I feel like I’m asking Michael Jordan
to show me how dribble a basketball. His kung-fu in this regard is
very powerful,
and his time could be better-spent virtually anywhere I’m not.

He’s already given me two IRIX applications CDs, a set of Red Hat “Rough Cuts”
CDs and a fistful of stuff I’m going to have to investigate more
thoroughly; things in shiny boxes that I don’t immediately recognize
as being all that useful, but given my propensity for going with
rock my judgement might not be the first thing you’d want to rely on
in this type of situation. I seem to be missing the actual IRIX OS
media, though. This is going to demand a workaround, since IRIX is
six hundred freaking dollars a seat for casual users like myself,
and while that might be worthwhile if you’ve got bags of money
doubling as furniture around your place this is tragically not my
situation. Shaver says netboot, so a-netbooting I go.

I was getting a bit maudlin earlier, in the way I periodically do
(that has my girlfriend referring to me as “Eeyore” recently,
something that would get virtually anyone else promptly separated into
their component atoms and scattered to the solar winds, but she
cheers me up when I deserve worse) and found myself thinking of old
CDs I no longer have. I’ve given away more than a few of them in my
time, and a significant chunk of those haven’t come back. I knew that
would happen, of course, but that’s life – with the advent of CD burners
and high speed connections (which should come as a package deal, with
an eye patch, a peg leg and a cutlass thrown in for good measure) I’m
sure I can recompile most of them, should it strike my fancy.

That said, I used to own:

  • Scenery and Fish, by I Mother Earth,
  • Pop and The Unforgettable Fire, by U2,
  • In Loving Memory Of, by Big Wreck
  • Pearl Jam’s Jeremy, the single that included the much-coveted
    Yellow Ledbetter,

  • An embarrasingly large collection of remixes of Run Away,
    by The Real McCoy. It’s surprising that I don’t have this anymore,
    if only because that would imply the very unlikely corollary that
    somebody else took it.

  • Descent 1 & 2, not only killer games, but D2 had Ogre
    working on the soundtrack. That game kicked my ass, which was good,
    because it was the only thing in the world that could kick my
    ass when I got into that game. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again,
    if only for the sheer nostalgic value of being able to take my
    long-standing friends Sean and Jamie and plow their respective
    asses underground again.

  • I even once owned some REM. Automatic For The People, I think.
  • A 2 CD set of Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters. The Great Nuff Has Spoken.

Should you, by any chance, be flipping through your CD collection and
wondering where the hell you got that crap, I urge you to rush back
to this very page and consult this list to see if anything matches up.
If, on the other hand, the label says “Bel Biv Devoe” or “The Thompson
Twins”, well, Dude. I can’t, nay, won’t help you. Maybe if you’re
lucky your local record store has a confessional booth in the back,
though. You might want to try that.