You know you're from Pennsylvania when:

- You think the roads in any other state are smooth.

- Hearing horses clopping down a paved street doesn't bring you to the window to see what's going on outside.

- You can stop along the road to buy fruits, vegetables, or crafts on the "honor system."

- You consider Pittsburgh to be "out west," and you know the fastest way to Philly is the Turnpike.

- When it snows they put cinders on the roads instead of sand.

- You can give directions to Intercourse with a straight face.

- Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

- You measure distance in minutes.

The 3 rules of tech support

1. Easy does it.
2. If it hurts don't do it.
3. Always keep a backup.

Story one comes from supporting a mainframe software product called TPX owned at that time (late 1980s) by Duquesne Systems in Pgh.  It is of the class "session manager" which can be thought of as "Windows for mainframes using a green screen interface".  The product had only been in the field a few years and was wildly popular.  It was #1 in its field in sales and installed base.

Customer tech support person calls our "help line" and says here system has crashed.  The first question in cases like this is always "What changed?  What did you change?"The answer was she increased a certain kind of system resource used by TPX (VTAM virtual terminals) by several orders of magnitude (in this case by several thousands).  But she failed to make corresponding parameter adjustments.  The manual does not tell you exactly what those adjustments are because they system is so complex and flexible, because it can be used in wildly different environments, it is difficult to predict what adjustments to make.  So she was told "easy does it!"  Make changes slowly.  Observe what the results are, especially in storage usage, and adjust parameters (in this case slot pool percentages) accordingly.  When system comes up and is usable, add more resources.  Iterate until you have reached your goal.

Story two has same source and scenario.  What was happening was that the system was slow and frustrated users at the customer site would repeatedly hit a certain key (the ATTN key) trying to disconnect. Instead the system crashed.  Yes we had a bug.  When we got the documentation of the bug (IBM mainframes have this wonderful thing called "a dump" which lets you perform a post-mortem autopsy on the system), we fixed the bug.  But until then we told customers to tell their users: "If it hurts, don't do it!"

As for Story three, this is obvious.  Always keep at least one backup.  If some data is very important, keep more than one and keep them in different places.

For a computer solution when the data is stored in a physically secure location, see RAID.

Screwtape and Christmas

I do think that some of the people who visit places of worship at great celebratory times do so for the spectacle.

On the other hand, in the "ScrewTape letters" CSLewis has a great chapter on this.

For those not knowing the book, it is the best humor as theology or is that theology as humor, I know of.

In the chapter I am thinking of, the little devil writes to the great devil that he has encouraged a woman to sin against pride by spending time and money dressing up to go to church.  She sits in front to show off. The great devil replies angrily that the last place to encourage people to go to is the area closest to the altar.  They might be affected by the presence of God there.

This link to an article entitled The Jingle Bell Mass A PASTORAL OPPORTUNITY LIKE NO OTHER makes the same point:

Almost every parish I know has a Jingle Bell Mass. It’s the one celebrated late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. It might also be referred to as the Christmas Vigil, the Family Friendly Mass, or in some places, the Children’s Mass. However, I’ve called it the Jingle Bell Mass ever since the time I walked over to the church and caught a lady (whom I had never seen before) roping off two entire pews with festive red ribbon, all the while grinning and humming Jingle Bells. When I asked her what she was doing, she matter-of-factly explained that she was saving seats for her family. It was three hours before Mass time.

This is the Mass where you try to cram eight hundred people into a church that seats four hundred and pray that the Fire Department doesn’t close you down. This is the Mass where you politely ask people to finish their cups of hot chocolate and cans of Redbull outside. This is the Mass filled with children who are sugar-high with excitement and adults who are dazed from holiday prep work, where teens are text-ing their friends who are sitting on the other side of the church—while on their way to Communion. This is the Mass attended by the famous bi-annually faithful. Most of all, this is the Mass that presents a pastoral opportunity like no other all year.

On this occasion the church is like an untouched field of snow. We have a chance to make an impression at this liturgy, a chance to either offer a reason to come back, or (at the very least) not feed anyone’s determination to stay away. Presbyters, cut your homilies. This isn’t the time to break out your seminary-trained brilliance but a chance to make a simple, clear point with a minimum of words. Trust that people have watched enough Hallmark specials to understand symbol. And please address yourself to the adults, not the kids. If you’ve done your job, both will understand you, but only those carrying a valid driver’s license will make the choice to return to your parish some other Sunday. Be sensitive, too, to the many faiths embraced by those who are sitting in front of you. Remember that some folks are there out of love for their families, not the church. Finally, do not say how you wish attendance could be this good every Sunday. You don’t. Plus, it won’t be guilt that brings people back.

Liturgy committees, hold off on the schmaltz. Leave the “Happy Birthday Cakes for Jesus” in the second-grade religious-education classrooms. Be careful with secular symbols. A hundred years ago, I was in a parish where a certain “visual meditation” would set my teeth on edge. After Communion, in dead silence, Santa Claus would slowly walk down the main aisle, carrying a huge sack. He would stop at the crêche, kneel for a moment, and then walk out the side door of the church. No matter what you’re thinking right now, trust me: it’s creepier in person. Plus, it confuses the kids. “What’s he doing here? Why isn’t he delivering toys somewhere in the world? My iPhone app says that Norad is tracking him over Australia right now.”

Congregations, give welcome to the strangers. I know that you occupy Pew 35 Left Side every week of the year and, at this Mass, an entire family from outside the parish has taken up residence there. Be gracious with your real estate, generous with your hospitality. Look for a seat somewhere else or slip into the sacristy (no one ever thinks of sitting there). Also, refrain from casting dirty looks at the mother of the crying baby. That small act of asceticism will go a long way toward establishing world peace. Try to do your part. When Mass is over, if you should see a candy cane stuck to a hymnal or a bulletin folded into an origami hat, please help to put things back in order. That would be most appreciated and, after all, you’re a “regular.” You own the place.

Not every parish can turn Christmas Mass at Midnight into an exquisite production, featuring a choir singing carols in four-part harmony and five languages. Not every parish can highlight Christmas Day with a trio of strings playing Mendelssohn as people gather. But every parish can turn their Jingle Bell Mass into an extraordinary opportunity for hospitality, where there is room for everyone, even Jesus.

Festivus - humbug

I learned of Festivus on facebook yesterday.  so I looked it up on Wikipedia.  How depressing!

It is said that satire does not look pretty on a tombstone.  The same is true of sarcasm.  Neither does either look good as a holiday.

People celebrate holidays because of history and tradition.  They throw themselves in them as a method of fulfillment.  Festivus appears to be a way of venting about how others celebrate.

Generating positive energy for one's self by trying to suck energy out of others does not seem to be in the spirit of being an American - or at least in the traditional spirit.

For Festivus the greeting should be shooting the bird.