I have a new article on the CRM team blog.
Back in 2001, when I moved into my house, I had a "roommate" who had a complete collection of furniture. All I had was a couch and a coffee table. One weekend, while attempting to gain some semblance of order in the house, I decided to move my couch out of the entry way and put it into the master bedroom, which had more than enough space.
The problem is my hallway is very narrow and the couch is very big. Not heavy, exactly, just wide and long.
My first attempted ended with the thermostat and smoke detector being forcibly removed from their wall locations.
The next attempt took over two hours, required the dismantling of half of the house and half of the couch and by some grace of God, the damn thing just popped in to the doorway. I was so exhausted I just curled up on the floor and took a nap.
I have always said that the only way I could remove the couch from the bedroom was to do it in pieces. Last night I was proven correct.
It started innocently enough; I just wanted to see if I could get it out of the bedroom. Then I let a little burr get up my butt and it became a mission. You should never get between a man and his mission. Trust me.
Anyway, again I dismantled half of the couch and half of the house but for the life of me, I could not figure out how to reverse the entry process.
After about an hour, I just got plain pissed off because the couch had started fighting back.
First it cut a chunk out of my finger with a staple.
Then it poked a hole in my wall.
Things were about to get ugly. In one final assault, the couch pinned by wrist against the door jamb, which resulted, I'm sure, in a slight fracture:
It's hard to tell, but that's my wrist and hand and it's not usually so round and puffy.
Since I actually like my neighbors and it was about 10:00pm, I decided against the chain saw. What a dumb-ass. Neighbors be damned…
I pulled out my hatchet and a hand saw and started doing a bit of surgery. After more than a little bit of banging, ripping, stomping, whining ( actually a lot of whining ), this is the result ( after removal from my bedroom ):
And that couch won't bother me again.
Next time, I'll try not to be so stupid as to get something of that size in there to start with.
So I was having coffee with my friend Bruce Wittenberg this morning and was describing the events of my previous evening ( see next post ).
I mentioned something about being:
big, dumb, and stupid
to which Bruce replies:
Oh, a perfect storm.
The gate that allows me passage from my driveway into the back yard is defective and needs to be replaced.
It is defective because it's broken.
It is defective because I'm a big guy and once set on a path, am hard to move.
The gate, not understanding these circumstances, remained shut when I approached ( it's not one of those fancy Star Trek automatic doors ). It continued to remain shut when I lifted the latch almost to the half-way-open position.
But alas, the gate is defective.
It did not sense the overwhelming need to completely open the latch on its own because, by golly, I was walking through the gate.
Now the gate is really defective.
It is only a gate; made of wood, with steel reinforcement in the corners.
Neither was designed to stop a buffalo from going where a buffalo wants to go and as mentioned before, Uncle Mitch is a big guy and when he starts moving, little things like partially opened gates really don't pose a problem.
Poor little gate.
[ I made this whole thing up Mom, so don't you start worrying about me needing a new gate. ]
I created a new word today: apportunity
That's what you get when you merge appointment and opportunity. Pretty cool, huh?
I ran into this today while installing a plug-in for a customer. A bit of research turned up articles by Ronald and George which ultimately led me to the following KB article.
The problem lies within the fact this installation has CRM on port 81, so the URL being used internally by the plug-in is incorrect. Here is the solution, as identified in the KB article:
Additionally, create a LocalSdkHost registry key on the Microsoft Dynamics CRM 4.0 server. To do this, follow these steps:
- Click Start, click Run, type regedit, and then click OK.
- Locate the following registry subkey:
HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINESOFTWAREMicrosoftMSCRM
- Right-click MSCRM, click New, and then click String Value.
- In the Name box, type LocalSdkHost.
- Right-click LocalSdkHost, and then click Modify.
- In the Value box, type the name of the Microsoft Dynamics CRM server or the host header, and then click OK.
Note Do not specify http:// or the port number. - Locate the LocalSdkPort key at the same location. Verify that the port that is listed matches the port that is being used for the CRM Web site.
- If the value of the LocalSdkPort key is incorrect, right-click LocalSdkPort, and then click Modify. Type the correct port number, and then click OK.
The LocalSdkPort value was already in place and correct. After the addition of the LocalSdkHost value, everything worked as expected.
Note: Hotfix rollup 1 was installed on the server
Headed back to Arkansas for Christmas I stopped to get some gas and decided I wanted some chocolate candy of some type.
Skittles has this new Chocolate Mix product that contains the following flavors:
- S'mores
- Vanilla
- Chocolate caramel
- Chocolate pudding
- Brownie batter
It seemed interesting, and at the time, a good idea.
Unfortunately, the combined flavors taste like crap. This is very disappointing because I'm a huge skittle-lover.
Stay away.
Here's another review.
from my friend joe:
I got trouble for you whenever you're ready.
I was headed to the lake one Saturday afternoon to hang out with some friends on their boat. As is usually the case, I was deep into a development project so when I arrived at the dock, I was still mentally in "development mode." I was also early. After sitting alone on the dock by their boat for half an hour or so, my urge to return back to my computer to finish my project finally overcame me and I decided to leave.
The highway near the boat dock was under construction and even on a good day, was usually packed with traffic. While waiting for what had to be five minutes for an opening in traffic, a curious development occurred right before my eyes.
Into the median of the divided highway screeched a red Toyota pickup truck. The driver immediately jumped out and opened the hood of his truck to fight the fire that had started on or near the engine. Yes, I said fire. That is not something you see every day.
Having limited fire-fighting equipment on board, he grabbed the only thing available to him, a spare shirt, and began to beat at the flames in hopes of extinguishing it. Not only were his actions in vain, but in the process also managed to catch his shirt on fire. After throwing the flaming shirt into the median, he began casting about for anything else that could be of assistance.
So there I set, watching these events unfold, while waiting for traffic to clear. I would surely lend a hand if I had a fire extinguisher or a bottle of water or something – anything that is capable of stopping a fire. Heck the only thing I have in my car besides myself is a twelve-pack of Shiner Bock that I brought to the lake with me.
WAIT. Beer is mostly water and mostly water is better than no water at all, right? I mean heck, it's better than peeing into a cup, right? Maybe we can use beer to put out the fire.
As circumstances would have it, traffic cleared about the same time I was having these thoughts. I gunned my car, jumped both lanes of the highway, and landed securely in the median beside the burning truck and the burning shirt, and the truck-on-fire-guy.
Using my finely honed ninja-like reflexes, I jumped out of the car, popped the hatchback, and extracted the twelve-pack, before darting toward the scene of the commotion.
Most people don't have a habit of running toward a fire so I guess when truck-on-fire-guy sees a red-bearded, 6'1" leviathan wearing a sleeveless tee-shirt and swimming trunks running toward him carrying a twelve-pack of beer, it must have been quite a shock.
About the time I made it to the median, a friend of truck-on-fire-guy also arrives and we both reach truck-on-fire-guy at about the same time. I put the beer on the ground, ripped open the top, and extracted two bottles.
Friend-of-truck-on-fire-guy eloquently states, "I'm not letting you waste a Shiner on a fire." Ah, a gentleman and a scholar. So refreshing.
Truck-on-fire-guy had no such qualms. I don't know, maybe he was neither a gentleman nor a scholar, but in any case, he grabbed the bottles from my hand, popped the tops, and poured them over the flames.
You can only imagine the smell of burning hops and electrical wire.
With the flames extinguished, I concluded that my job was done. As I turned to leave, truck-on-fire-guy reminds me of the remaining ten bottles of fire suppressant still setting in the middle of the median. I told him that I thought he was going to need them a whole lot more than me, so there they remained.
You can't save all of the world, all of the time, but, you can make small differences. Having done my good deed for the day, I return home, chuckling about the event the entire way.
Who knew that you didn't actually have to drink the beer in order to have a good time?
The End.
Copyright (c) 2009 by Mitch Milam
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