Two Minds are Better Than One

I’m going to do something often not seen in social media. I’m going to talk about a mistake that I made. It’s all to common on various certain media sites to talk about how perfect our lives are and how great things are. You rarely hear about mistakes. I decided, in the theme of this blog of talking about how we approach and solve (or don’t solve) problems, I’d be up front and admit a mistake.

This all started with a leak in the downstairs shower. It had been growing over the years and I frankly had been ignoring it.  Why put off to tomorrow what you can put off to next month or even year? But finally, in December of last year it became obvious that it was time to fix the leak. It had continued to grow, and now that my son was home from college for extended break, he had setup a work area in the basement, below the bathroom.  I figured he didn’t really need to suffer from water dripping onto his desk.

So, he and I went into full demolition mode and ripped out the old tile and backer board to get to the plumbing.

New plumbing in bathroom

New plumbing

You can see some of the work here. I also took the opportunity to run wiring to finally put in a bathroom fan. That’s a whole other story.

Anyway, the demolition and plumbing went well. Then we put up the backer board and sealed it. And left it like that. It didn’t look good, but it was waterproof and usable. It was “good enough”. So for about 8 months it sat like that. But with an upcoming pool party, I decided it was time to finally finish it off. One of the hold ups had been deciding on tile. Fortunately, on a shopping trip about a month earlier, my son, my wife and I found tile we liked (my daughter, who ironically still lives at home and will be using the shower more in the next few years than her brother, was in LA on vacation, so she ended up not really having much say in the matter).

So, earlier this month, while the rest of my family took a weekend to go to Six Flags New Jersey, I figured I’d surprise them with finally tiling the shower.  I went to the big box store whose favorite color is orange and bought the required materials. Since tile we had selected is approximately 6″ wide and 24″ long, I had to make sure I got the right mastic.  This was a bit different from stuff I’ve worked with in the past with a bit more synthetic materials in it and it mixed differently, and had slightly different drying characteristics. That, combined with growing darkness lead me to move quickly. The darkness was a factor since any tile cutting I was doing was outside.

And, all that lead to a simple mistake.  On the end wall, there’s a window and as a result part of that wall needed tiles just less than 24″ long. On one hand, this is a huge plus since it means less seams and less places to grout. On the other, it meant in one spot having to work around the trim of the window. And that’s where I made my mistake.  The trim had been put over the original tile, so there was in theory room behind the stool of the window to fit in a piece of tile. That had been my plan.

But, when it came to sliding in the nearly 24″ long piece of tile, it wouldn’t fit. It wouldn’t bend (obviously) to let me get it tucked behind the stool and due to the stickiness of the mastic, I couldn’t slid it in from the top.

So, I cut out a notch. In the back of my mind I somehow was thinking, that it wouldn’t look that bad and tile would cover it.  Well, I was obviously wrong.

In hindsight, I realized I should have cut the tile in two pieces, created an extra seam (like the row below it that had to cover more than 24″ wide in any event) and then I could have slide in the smaller piece and then put in the remaining piece. It would have been perfect, looked great and more likely to be waterproof.

So, this gets me to the title. Had I been doing the work with someone else, I’m sure I’d have said, “Damn, this is gonna suck, any ideas?”

A mistake

My mistake

And I’m sure someone else would have suggested, “Hey, cut the piece and slide it in.”

I like working alone, but sometimes, you need a second person to help. Or more than one brain as I’ve mentioned in the past.  If nothing else, sometimes a duck can help.

Idera Ducks!

A bunch of rubber ducks, including two from Idera!

So, the moral of the story is sometimes two heads are better than one. Oh well, I won’t be the one using that shower, so I won’t see my mistake all the time!

Oh and check out my latest Red-Gate Article on Secure Strings in PowerShell.

“Do What You Love…

And you’ll never have to work a day in your life.” – Confucius, Mark Antony, Mark Twain.

Honestly, I think that’s some of the worst advice ever. It’s a sure way to end up hating something you love doing. Or if you do follow it, make sure you understand what it is that you love.

I first realized this in high school. I had signed up to do JV soccer, something I enjoyed, but I can’t say I loved. Before school started, we had a day of orientation. It included a hike or run up the mountain behind the school. I loved the woods and I loved (and still do at times) running through the woods. Somewhere along the way, a fellow student saw me running and suggested if I enjoyed running through nature so much, that I consider doing Cross-Country instead as my fall sport. I took their advice; snd hated it for two fall semesters in a row.

I realized what had happened was that I had replaced what to me was a fun, non-competitive activity and turned it into something where I had to perform at a specific level every single time. What I loved was running through the woods, not running competitively.

People assume I love working with computers.  That’s not entirely true. I ENJOY working with computers. I enjoy solving problems and computers are one way I can express that joy. When I make a query run 10x faster, or automate a process that previously took someone an hour a day to do, I enjoy that. But do I love it? Probably not. And I’m actually grateful for that. Because if I loved it, it would mean those days of drudgery where I bang my head against the wall all day trying to solve a problem, or I’m up until 3:00 AM recovering a failed server would turn something I love into something I dread. Something I loved would become a chore.

I love to teach caving. I get a real thrill out of it. But, I suspect that if I spend 40 hours a week, 50 weeks a year doing it, it would soon become a chore.

As my kids started their college journey, I’ve advised them, “find something you enjoy, not something you love. Keep the something you love for your own personal time so it doesn’t become a chore.” And that’s my advice to anyone.

But hey, I could be wrong. What are your thoughts? Did you pick your job because you love it and if so, do you still love it, or did you end up resenting it at all? Or do you enjoy your job?

Tighter than I Remember

I’ve been reading a book off and on for about a year now called, Being Wrong : Adventures in the Margin of Error. It ties into my interest in meta-cognition and how we think.

We build a model in our head of how the world is. Often times it’s accurate, but often times it’s wrong. In my model of the world, the Sun rises in the East. This model is accurate and corresponds with the model most of us have. But I can easily construct related models that are wrong. Looking back I can remember that it was sunny on a particular day, only to find if I check the records, it was raining. My memory is wrong, but it created the model I had for that day. I can also create a model going forward. Last night, going to bed, the world I was going to wake up to was sunny. This was based on the weather forecast and the fact that the Sun rises in the East. Well, the Sun may have risen today, but it’s not sunny. There’s far too many clouds. So that model was wrong.

This all comes to mind because of a caving trip I did this weekend. There’s a fine little cave near here called Ella Armstrong. It’s really not much of a cave, perhaps 250′ of walkable passage total. But I’ve always liked it even though I hadn’t been there in 15-20 years. It’s got a nice vertical drop at the entrance that’s great for beginners. And it has an easy walk-in entrance.  As a result, I had been considering using it for some cave rescue training next year.

So you can imagine my surprise when two of my fellow cavers who had been there just a few weeks ago said I was in fact wrong and it’s not a walk-in entrance and that in fact it’s rather tight. I was surprised. I didn’t really doubt them, but figured perhaps we had a different definition of what we considered a tight entrance.

Now, let me take a little detour here and mention that almost every caver will at some point joke about how a particular cave has gotten smaller over the years. It’s a little lie we tell ourselves to account for the fact that many of us have put on a few pounds since we first started caving and some passages are in fact harder to get through.  The truth is, rarely due caves get smaller, though sometimes passages sometimes do get larger. There’s a cave in Vermont where I’m pretty sure fitting through 2 of the 3 tightest spots is probably close to impossible for me now. And I know the cave didn’t change sizes, so I’ll have to admit I have.

But back to Ella Armstrong. If you had asked me to describe the entrance prior to this weekend I’d have described it as about 12′ tall at its tallest and 3′-4′ wide most of the way to the top of the drop.

Well, as Saturday proved, the model in my head was only half right. The map lists the entrance as 8′. I’ll call that close enough to 12′ since it simply means there’s no chance to hit my head on the ceiling.

On the other hand, most of the entrance from the surface to the top of the drop is NOT 3′-4′ wide. It probably averages 18″ at most and in parts is just wide enough for me to work my chest through with some contortions. My first reaction when I got to the entrance was, “perhaps some rocks have fallen in and narrowed this from what I remember.” But, after I started to scramble beyond some of the rocks on the surface, I got to the bedrock, which I know hadn’t moved and realized that my model was dramatically wrong. It was tight enough that at one point I considered calling off our trip. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I couldn’t make it further down and past a particular spot; gravity would see to that. It was more that I was afraid I might not get back UP past that spot. Finally after some mental gymnastics I figured a way I could not only get down past the choke point, but felt comfortable thinking I could get back up past it. As I’m writing this from the comfort and safety of my home, you can see my mental gymnastics worked.  Actually, it turned out the crux move on the way out was a bit further up that wasn’t nearly as tight, but had a short shelf about 3′ up in a spot that wasn’t great on foot or handholds. On the way in, that spot didn’t appear to be an issue at all. So again, in the narrow space of about 20 minutes my mental model failed me.

The truth is, we make mental models all the time. It’s how we operate in the world. But sometimes those models are wrong. Sometimes in a positive way, the tight spot getting out wasn’t as bad as I thought, or in a negative way, the spot I thought would be easy, was in fact the hardest sport. But regardless of the errors in many of our models, we generally navigate the world in a successful manner. Being wrong isn’t necessarily the end of the world.

Unfortunately though, as much as I love this cave, it really is too tight to be practical for cave rescue exercises. Which is a shame, because it is a great little cave. And if you’re ever in the area and want to check it out, let me know. I’d love to take you. But I’ll warn you, it’s a bit tight in spots!

JOBS THAT BEAT THE CARING OUT OF YOU

Let me start by saying this is NOT an April Fool’s Joke. This is a true story.

I do lay the ‘blame’ for this post squarely two members of my #SQLFamily: first on the heels of Grant Fritchey and his post by he same name. He in turn lays blame on Jen McCown’s post by the same name.

I mention elsewhere in my blog I prefer to be intelligiently lazy, so rather than retype, I’ll post the content from a Quora answer I wrote.  Technically I was just a consultant, and after twice getting a late check I made it clear to them that if they stopped paying me on time, I would stop working.  Apparently they liked me enough that a quick call to the CFO would get me a check cut that day.

So with that:

Let me give you an example of a client I once had. When I started with them, people loved working there and they were expanding and successful. So successful the company got bought.

Then… things changed.

Sales people were finding their expense checks weren’t getting paid (more on that later). Did you know, even if you try to explain to the credit card company that it’s a “company card” if it’s in your name and the company doesn’t pay it, you’ll ruin your credit score? Yes, it’s pretty difficult to be a sales person who can’t travel because no one will give you a credit card any more!

Then, to cut costs, an office move was proposed. Quite frankly, had I not been involved as their IT guy, it would have been a disaster for a variety of reasons. Fortunately for them, besides my IT skills, I could read blueprints. It was quite obvious to me that 2 outlets would not serve an office of 20–25 people with computers and printers. It took me nearly kidnapping the CFO on a day he visited and dragging him to the office to make clear how much more work the office needed. They simply assumed, “oh, it’ll have enough power.”

Meanwhile the previous owner had started a new company (in a completely different industry) and was growing and expanding at a furious rate. Also, my wife was a recruiter at another local company (in a different industry also). The only thing all three of these companies had in common was they all were software related, but the fields they served were completely different.

At one point, the top sales person from the failing company left to go get a job a with the new company. Within days the former company sent a cease and desist letter to the new company insisting they stop poaching employees and if they continued, they’d sue the owner for violating the non-compete clause. Now, keep in mind the owner was very much NOT approaching employees of the old company, but even if he were, the non-compete only applied if he had founded a new company in the same industry. he hadn’t. We had a good laugh at the old company.

Now, meanwhile, my wife, while not exactly poaching, knew that almost any offer she made would be accepted since morale was so bad at the old company.

Then… this happened. I was there for the meeting and sat in on it. It’s the closest I’ve come to “beatings will continue until morale improves” ever.

The CFO and CEO came into town for an all-hands meeting. Their goal was to address, among other things, the late employee expense checks issue.

I will say, they had some pretty looking slides. The slides showed things like cash-flow, moving towards profitability and some other items. But the message was quite clear, “We will continue to pay YOUR expense checks as late as possible because it helps our cash flow. And you should be grateful for this.” They very much could NOT understand why employees were furious that their expenses were basically being used as no-interest loans by the company. The rate of exits accelerated after that.

What had been a thriving company became a dying, decaying shell of a company in under a year because of the management.

One Postscript:

One of the developers who left the old company ended up at the new company. He submitted his expense check. He was reasonable, he knew it would probably hit his next pay cycle. He was OK with that. I still recall the look on his face when later that day someone from finance walked in with his expense check. They were under no obligation to turn it around that fast and he certainly wasn’t expecting it. But they did so. They “bought” his loyalty that day by a simple gesture.

So, if people are leaving, trying to force them to stay will backfire. Figure out what you’re doing wrong and fix it.

Failure is Required

Last week one of my readers, Derek Lyons correctly called me out on some details on my post about Lock outs. Derek and I go back a long ways with a mutual interest in the space program. His background is in nuclear submarines and some of the details of operations and procedures he’s shared with me over the years have been of interest.  The US nuclear submarine program is built around “procedures” and since the adoption of their SUBSAFE program, has only suffered one hull-loss and that was with the non-SUBSAFE-certified USS Scorpion.

The space program is also well known for its heavy reliance on procedures and attention to detail and safety. Out of the Apollo 13 incident, we have the famous quote, “Failure is not an option” attributed to Gene Kranz in the movie (but there’s no record of him saying it at the time.)

Anyway, his comments got me thinking about failures in general.

And I’d argue that with certain activities and at a certain level, this is true. When it comes to bringing a crew home from the Moon, or launching nuclear missiles, or performing critical surgeries, failure is not an option.

But sometimes, not only is it an option I’d say it’s almost a requirement. I was reminded of this at a small event I was asked to help be a panelist at last week.  It turned out there were 3 of us panelists and just 2 students from a local program to help folks learn to code: AlbanyCanCode. The concept of agile development was brought up and the fact that agile development basically relies on failing fast and early.  For software development, the concept of failing fast really only costs you time. And agile proponents will argue that in fact it saves you time and money since you find your failures much earlier meaning you spend less time going down the wrong path.

But I’m going to shift gears here to an area that’s even more near and dear to my heart: cave rescue.  At an overarching, one might say strategic level, failure is not an option. We teach in the NCRC that our goal is to get the patient(s) out in as good or better shape than we found them as quickly and safely as possible.  In other words, if we end up killing a patient, but get them out really quickly, that’s considered a failure; whereas if we take twice as long, but get them out alive, that’s considered a success.

But how do we do that?  Where does failure come into play?

One of the first lessons I was taught by one of my mentors was to avoid “the mother of all discussions.” This lesson hit home during an incident in my Level 1 training here in New York. We had a mock patient in a Sked. Up to this point it had been walking passage through a stream with about 1″ of water. But we had hit a choke point where the main part of the ceiling came down to about 12″ above the floor passage.  There was alternative route that would involve lifting the patient up several feet and then over some boulders and through some narrow and low (but not 12″ low passage) and then we’d be back to walking passage.  I and two others were near the head of the litter.  At this point we had placed the litter on the ground (out of the water).  We scouted ahead to see how far the low passage went and noticed it went about a body length.  A very short distance.

Meanwhile the rest of our party were back in the larger passage having the mother of all discussions. They were discussing whether we should could drag the litter along the floor, lift it up to go high, or perhaps even for this part, remove the patient from the litter and have them drag themselves a bit.  There may have been other ideas too.

My two partners and I looked at each other, looked at the low passage, looked at the patient, shrugged our shoulders and dragged the patient through the low passage to the other side.

About 10 seconds later someone from the group having the mother of all discussions exclaimed, “where’s the patient?”

“Over here, we got him through, now can we move on?”

They crawled through and we completed the exercise.

So, our decision was a success. But what if it had been a failure. What if we realized that the patient’s nose was really 13″ higher than the floor in the 12″ passage. Simple, we’d have pulled the patient back out. Then we could have shut down the mother of all discussions and said, “we have to go high, we know for a fact the low passage won’t work.”

Failure here WAS an option and by actually TRYING something, we were able to quickly succeed or fail and move on to the next option.

Now obviously one has to use judgement here. What if the water filled passage was 14″ deep. Then no, my partners and I certainly would NOT have tried to move the patient with just the three of us. But perhaps we might have convinced the group to try.

The point is, sometimes it can often be faster and easier to actually attempt a concept than it is to discuss it to death and consider every possibility.

Time and time again I’ve seen students in our classes fall into the mother of all discussions rather than actually attempt something. If they actually attempt something they can learn very quickly if it will work or not. If it works, great, the discussion can now end and they can move on to the next challenge. If it doesn’t work, great, they’ve narrowed down their options and can discuss more intelligently about the remaining options (and then perhaps quickly iterate through those too.)

So today’s take away, is don’t be afraid of failure. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Experience it. It will lead to learning.  Just make sure you understand the price of failure.  Failure may be an option and is sometimes mandatory, but in other cases, the old saw is true, failure is not an option, especially if failure means the loss of life.

 

Less than our Best

I’ve mentioned in the past that I participate a lot in SQL Saturday events and also teach cave rescue. These are ways I try to give back to at least two communities I am a member of. I generally take this engagement very seriously; for two reasons.

The first, which is especially true when I teach cave rescue, is that I’m teaching critical skills that may or may not put a life on the line. I can’t go into teaching these activities without being prepared or someone may get injured or even killed.

The second is, that the audience deserves my best. In some cases, they’ve paid good money to attend events I’m talking or teaching at. In all cases, they’re taking some of their valuable time and giving it to me.

All the best SQL Saturday speakers and NCRC instructors I know feel generally the same about their presentations. They want to give their best.

But here’s the ugly truth: Sometimes we’re not on our A game. There could be a variety of reasons:

  • We might be jet-lagged
  • We may have partied a bit too much last night (though for me, this is not an issue, I was never much of a party animal, even when I was younger)
  • You might have lost your power and Internet the day before during the time you were going to practice and found yourself busy cutting up trees
  • A dozen other reasons

You’ll notice one of those became singular. Ayup, that was my excuse. At the SQL Saturday Albany event, due to unforeseen circumstances the day before, the time I had allocated to run through my presentation was spent removing trees from the road, clearing my phone line and trying to track down the cable company.

So, one of my presentations on Saturday was not up to the standard I would have liked it to be. And for that, to my audience, I apologize (and did so during the presentation).

But here’s the thing: the feedback I received was still all extremely positive. In fact the only really non-positive feedback was in fact very constructive criticism that would have been valid even had I been as prepared as I would have liked!

I guess the truth is, sometimes we hold ourselves to a higher standard than the audience does. And I think we should.

PS: a little teaser, if all goes as planned, tomorrow look for something new on Red-Gate’s Simple Talk page.

A Lost Sked

Not much time to write this week. I’m off in Alabama crawling around in the bowels of the Earth teaching cave rescue to a bunch of enthusiastic students. The level I teach focuses on teamwork. And sometimes you find teams forming in the most interesting ways.

Yesterday our focus was on some activities in a cave (this one known as Pettyjohn’s) that included a type of a litter known as a Sked. When packaged it’s about 9″ in diameter and 4′ tall. It’s packaged in a bright orange carrier. It’s hard to miss.

And yet, at dinner, the students were a bit frantic; they could not account for the Sked. After some discussion they determined it was most likely left in the cave.

As an instructor, I wasn’t overly concerned, I figured it would be found and if not, it’s part of the reason our organization has a budget for lost or broken equipment, even if it’s expensive.

That said, what was quite reassuring was that the students completely gelled as a team. There was no finger pointing, no casting blame. Instead, they figured out a plan, determined who would go back to look for it and when. In the end, the Sked was found and everyone was happy.

The moral is, sometimes an incident like this can turn into a group of individuals who are blaming everyone else, or it can turn a group into a team where everyone is sharing responsibility. In this case it was it was the latter and I’m quite pleased.