By Dave Stoecker on microsoft.public.backoffice.smallbiz2000
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I can't believe I deprived myself of sleep for this, but I couldn't stop once I got involved...Good night (morning) everyone,
DS
Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - (a.k.a. Smallbiz-dot-local)
by Gordon Lightfoot (sorry Gordon, such a great song)
Lyrics:
http://main.blclinks.net/~sshort/shi...d/ef_lyric.htm
Info and MIDIs:
http://www.corfid.com/gl/wreck.htm
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The legend lives on from the MVPs on down
Of the server they called "Fast n' Roomy"
A server it is said, never gives up it's dead
When the lights start to flash then turn gloomy
With a full Exchange store 16 gigabytes more
Than the Smallbiz.local weighed empty.
That good box and true was about to come unglued
When the power supply began to get flaky.
The box was the pride of the IT staff's guys
And the sales staff got hefty commissions
As the big iron goes, it was bigger than most
Nine drives in RAID 5 well partitioned
Concluding some terms with the heads of the firm
They all left to play golf for the weekend
And later that night when their e-pager's hummed
Could it be the power spikes they'd been feelin'?
The drives in the array made a tattle-tale whine
And the techs at the console were swearing
And the night staff all knew, as the admins did too,
That was smoke from the CPU fan bearings.
The pizza came late and the techs had to wait
When the printers shut down and stopped spewin'.
When the morning shift came they were almost insane
In the face of a severe ass-chewin'.
When lunch time had came, the firm's CEO came in the room sayin'
"Fellas - the server - we need it."
At Seven P.M. they all finally gave in, he said
"Fellas, just pick up your pink-slips"
The admins, they wailed 'But the backup tape failed'
And the company's data was in peril.
And later that night when it's lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Smallbiz.local.
Does any one know where the data all goes
When the tapes turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say that the files can't be found
And the archive's already been scoured.
The tape might have wrinkled or demagnetized;
May have fell in a cup and took coffee.
And all that remains are the backup job names
In the e-mailed reports on the laptops.
With climate control, the new SBS sings
In the cool of her server-room mansion.
The new server screams like a young admin's dreams;
The tape-changer's bays are kept loaded.
And farther below where the salvaged parts go
They'll take in what the admins can send them,
And the UPS lights glow as the new admins show
With the Smallbiz.local remembered.
In a musty old bar the old admins they stay,
In the 'Backup Best-Practice Cathedral'.
And the jukebox will play this song twenty-nine times
For each file on the Smallbiz.local.
The legend lives on from the MVPs on down
Of the server they called "Fast n' Roomy".
'A server', they said, 'never gives up it's dead
when the power supply starts to get flaky!'
[This message has been edited by Auburn Annie (edited April 22, 2004).]
