First Apache email

It seems that first Apache.org email message was a very thorough bug report for a bug that, alas, not only was already well documented, but which had already been fixed. The report was against Apache 1.3b3, which I mistakenly called 3.3b3. I guess, since 1.3 hadn’t released yet, that we must have been running 1.2 at the time at DataBeam.

That was in January of 1998, though, and I am pretty sure that I had already been running Apache for at least 2 years by then, and NCSA before that. It seems strange that I never sent a message to a mailing list before then.

mod_rewrite

I don’t remember exactly when I started doing mod_rewrite stuff. I remember why. I noticed that more than half of the questions on #apache were about mod_rewrite, and I made a decision to become the expert on it. I was already very familiar with regular expressions, since I was a Perl programmer at the time, so I figured it couldn’t be very difficult.

I determined pretty early on that the biggest difficulty with mod_rewrite was that people were afraid of it. In particular, they were afraid of regular expressions. And there’s plenty of things floating about reinforcing this fear, not least of which is the mod_rewrite documentation itself.

So, now, several years on, I have a book about mod_rewrite, and in about 10 minutes I’ll be giving Yet Another conference presentation about mod_rewrite, which is nothing more than an affirmation that this isn’t hard (after all, I mastered it) but that there’s still a lot of people who need help with it.

ApacheCon day … something

Yesterday, I felt absolutely wretched. This used to happen to me a lot at conferences. I’d get sick the first day or two, and miss a lot of stuff. I spent most of yesterday napping.

I feel a lot better today, but am still very tired.

This afternoon – in about 2 hours – I’ve got my mod_rewrite presentation, and then tonight I’m MCing the Lightning Talks, since Fred and Fitz aren’t here this year. Could be fun. You should come.

DNS idiocy

For reasons largely historical, and perpetuated by laziness, I host a DNS server in my living room. I keep meaning to migrate everything off of there onto something more reliable like SliceHost.

A week ago, or thereabouts, I changed my LAN IP range at home to match the range at work, simply because it makes it a little faster to get a DHCP lease when I switch between the two places.

Now, had I thought it through, I’d have realized that this took my server offline. But I didn’t. So the zones I host have been gradually expiring over the last several days. As usual, this happened while I’m out of the country.

So … if I host DNS zones for you, continue to bug me to move them to SliceHost. But they’re back online now.

ApacheCon Day Two

The first night in Amsterdam, I went straight to sleep, so yesterday was pretty good. Last night, I was up almost all night, or so it seemed, and today I am exhausted. Which is bad, because I have to talk all day long. I’m going the second day of the “Apache Nuts To Bolts” training class. JimJag did day one.

The presentation bit is here. Yeah. I know. Comic Sans. Get over it.

Lunch was great, but now I’m tired *and* full, so the afternoon is going to be a little long. Just 3 hours to go.

Surrounded by genius

I got involved with Perl largely by accident, and very quickly found myself surrounded by people a lot smarter than me, and had the opportunity to meet people that, to this day, I’m humbled to think know me by name.

Later on, I got involved in Apache in much the same way. Somewhat by accident, but also because I did what I was good at – explaining complicated things to beginners – and contributed that back to the project. Once again, I quickly found myself surrounded by people not only a lot smarter than me, but who had done things that fundamentally changed the way the world does things, from developing the HTTP protocol itself to writing the Apache web server, to things like Java, ATOM, SVN, and so on.

I’m always a bit dazzled, when I come to ApacheCon, by the folks who are milling around here, and what these people have collectively created. And by the fact that they consider me one of their peers.

Over the years, the level of my contribution has waxed and waned, largely dependent on the demands of my real life, or whether or not I’m working on a book at the time. But the people that I’ve met during this process continue to respect and accept me for what I’ve done in the past. That’s pretty cool. But whenever I come to events like ApacheCon, I find myself inspired all over again to step up and contribute to this amazing collection of projects that comprise the ASF, or to other projects with which I’m nominally involved.

Great Managers – More

Oh, one more thing.

It’s worth noting that the other person that I look to when I think about what makes a great manager is Andy Lester. Not because he’s ever been my manager (I should be so lucky) but because of the advice that he’s given me over the years, both personally, via his conference presentations, and via his various websites. He is blunt, understands how to manage geeks, and communicates clearly to geeks about how to deal with it when they have managers who don’t know how to manage geeks. I think I’ve learned more about all topics work-related from Andy than from any other person.

In Amsterdam

I’m in Amsterdam again. ApacheCon starts tomorrow, and I’ll be doing a two-day Apache HTTPd Server training class with JimJag.

I slept quite a bit on the plane, which was unexpected. So I’m going to try to stay up instead of napping, so that I can sleep tonight. Perhaps I’ll take a stroll downtown – perhaps as far as Rembrandt Platz. But now that I’m deciding to go somewhere, I’m starting to feel … very … sleepy.

Great Managers

Two incidents this week – Lunch with a former manager, and one of my employees resigning – got me thinking about what makes a great manager. I’d like to be a great manager some day. I work towards that goal primarily by trying to emulate great managers in my past.

Two of these stand out above all others, and I always compare myself against them, and usually fall short. But I think I’m learning.

The first of these was Lee Todd. He wasn’t my direct manager, but was one layer removed from me. However, everybody knew that Lee cared about us as people. That didn’t mean that he was a push-over. He was a hard worker, and expected no less of anybody else. But he also understood that family came before work, and never once questioned decisions that were made to put family ahead of business. And more than once, he was known to scold people who were working unnecessarily long hours. He taught me the principle that as long as the job is getting done, you should get out of folks’ way and let them do it their way, in their time. If an employee isn’t actually *directly* interacting with the customer, then the time when they choose to do the job isn’t terribly important, if the work is getting done.

When Lee sold DataBeam to IBM in 1998, he rewarded each of us for our contributions that made it possible for him to do that. He taught me that, on the one hand, there’s no limit to what you can get done if you don’t care who gets the credit, and, on the other hand, you should go out of you way to give credit where it’s due. Grasping credit for yourself just builds resentment, and doesn’t actually get you any closer to the goal. The secret here is that the more you hand out credit, the more people will remember your role in it all.

The other of these managers was Paul Dupree, the director of IS at Asbury College. Once again, Paul wasn’t my direct manger. And, indeed, I can say an awful lot of positive things about Don, who was my direct manager, much as I can say great things about Robert, who was my direct manager under Dr. Todd.

Paul taught me a lot about delegation. You hire people who know more than you about something, and you trust them to do what they’re good at. You stay out of their way, as long as they understand that it’s their job to communicate everything that you need to know.

Paul is very intentional in everything he does, thinking through what needs to be done, how he believes it needs to be done, and what the consequences are of doing it. Or, at least, that’s my impression of him. This is something I haven’t yet learned all the way. I have trouble thinking stuff through to that consequences part. I’m getting there, I think, but business as chess game is still something of a mystery to me. I have trouble keeping the entire big picture in mind when making the small decisions.

Of course, I have been *hugely* blessed in my job as manager by having a staff who are self-motivated, competent, and dedicated to getting the job done, and getting it done with perfection. So I know when I give them a task, it’s completely safe to forget about it until the moment that they come back and say that it’s done. Not everyone has employees that require so little hand-holding. While I’d like to think that this is all about my ability to hire the right people, I know it’s not so much that as the assistance I got from certain people in the hiring process.

So, this week, one of my employees resigned. It’s a big blow. He’s not been there very long, and in the time he’s been there, he’s made great strides for us technically. He’s also a rarity in tech workers – folks actually like him. He’s respectful in interactions with non-technical people. He speaks tech and non-tech, and can act as interpreter. And he, too, gets the job done.

I’ve asked him, on his way out, to give some thought to what I do well, and what I do not so well, as a manager. I want to improve as a manger, so that some day someone will look back at their time working with me and have benefited professionally and personally from the process. Most days, I feel it’s all I can do to get through the day, much less set a great example of leadership for my team.

I’ve also had other managers, who I won’t name, who have taught me a lot about how not to manage. Mangers who put their personal aggrandizement – whether that was political or financial – ahead of any notion of doing good for their customers. Managers who just wanted to lay low, avoid attention, and collect their paycheck. Managers who actively undermined everyone around them – both above, below, and horizontally – in order to climb to the top.

Oh, and in closing, I really should mention Homer. Homer was one of the owners at a company I recently worked for. He was killed when Comair 5191 crashed leaving Lexington in 2006. Homer always had a kind word, and understood, as a father, that my daughter was more important than my work, and that when I had to choose between the two, I wouldn’t hesitate. When I had to leave work before everyone else, he alone seemed to understand that I was arriving at 6 so that I could leave at 4 to be on time to pick her up, and encouraged me to do this. And he did the same thing when it was a choice between work and his family. Homer was a good man – something not to be taken lightly.

I figure if I can be some of the things that these three men embodied, I’ll be doing pretty good.

Ready to go …

This year, preparing for ApacheCon has been unusual. I guess it changes every year, but this year I really would rather be staying home. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that the conference will be fabulous. It always is, both as a technical conference, and as a time to catch up with longtime friends. But the trees are just starting to green, and it’s warming up, and I will miss my family an awful lot. And I’m just not that exited about Amsterdam. I’ve seen Amsterdam. I’ve seen the bits that truly interest me, and may try to go to the Van Gogh museum again this year, if I have time. But I don’t care for the red light district, and I don’t care for the coffee shops, and I don’t have a lot of cash laying around to spend on the admittedly amazing restaurants, so I expect to spend most of the time in the hotel working on long-past writing deadlines, which I’d really rather do in my own home.

That said, I’ll say again that I’m sure the conference will be amazing, and as soon as I get there and get immersed in it, I’ll have a good time. Just not real fired up about it right now, with just 4 hours left before I need to leave for the airport.

I wonder if I packed my toothbrush …

The Margin Is Too Narrow