The Great Roxio Fishing Trip of '06
This is one of the weirder ways I've spent a day as a computer geek.
My boss and I were unpacking the last of the moving boxes, at least in some temporary fashion. He went to slide a box across the top shelf to make more room . . . and it fell. Into the corner where the two sets of shelves meet. The gentleman who built the shelves, who did not do a good job in several other facets, either, did not close off that corner.
The box contained a dozen copies of Roxio Easy CD burning software. At our pricing, this is somewhere around $200 dollars. The shelves are ungodly heavy, and quite likely fixed to the wall. And thus began the fishing trip.
My boss located a length of miscellaneous 3/4" PVC pipe, lugged with us during the move because it might be useful. He determined that 1/3 of its length could be unscrewed. The remaining 2/3 should have unscrewed, but the two sections were either stuck or glued together. He left the IT suite with a determined look in search of a hacksaw, and came back with two pieces of PVC pipe and the comment that men should not be allowed near serrated kitchen knives. He then arranged the three lengths of PVC pipe in such a fashion that they nested into each other, creating a reassemble-able pole, loosely jointed.
At this point, a trip to Ace Hardware was required. The end of the implement you can see is a long machine bolt with a wing bolt/toggle bolt screwed down onto it. The orange tip is some kind of screw-on plastic piece which he then cut at an angle to get some kind of a point. There was a long piece of twine attached to the bolt, in case we had to separately retrieve it. The bolt was duct-taped to the end of the PVC pipe and the twine was drawn up through the three separate lengths of nest-able pipe.
We dragged the ladder out of the server room and set it up in the supply room, and my boss assayed its lofty heights. The pointy end of the implement went into the hole behind the bookcases. The second piece was threaded down the rope and nested into it, and which point, my boss secured the join with a shitload of duct tape. The third piece followed, with me keeping tension on the rope at various points, and nested but was not taped. After that, it was time for harpooning practice. After perhaps ten minutes of fiddling, Mark succeeded in stabbing the pointy plastic and toggle bolt, both, through the mislaid box to a depth at which the toggle bolt's "wings" could open up behind it, acting as a barb to keep it stuck in the box.
Then we had the fun of pulling on the string to draw up the box, disassembling the pole a piece at a time. The results are as you see: It ain't pretty, but it was indeed extracted. We're not too worried about whether or not we broke the CD media; we have lots, we just need to be able to read the license key. The fishing implement was retained as potentially useful. Some extraneous cardboard and styrofoam was taped to a computer chassis box, which we then stuffed in to cover that corner and labeled, "Do not move me," "I live here," etc.
Four to six man-hours. Because a stressed-out handyman couldn't be bothered to do it right in the first place. At least there was significant amusement value.
My boss and I were unpacking the last of the moving boxes, at least in some temporary fashion. He went to slide a box across the top shelf to make more room . . . and it fell. Into the corner where the two sets of shelves meet. The gentleman who built the shelves, who did not do a good job in several other facets, either, did not close off that corner.
The box contained a dozen copies of Roxio Easy CD burning software. At our pricing, this is somewhere around $200 dollars. The shelves are ungodly heavy, and quite likely fixed to the wall. And thus began the fishing trip.
My boss located a length of miscellaneous 3/4" PVC pipe, lugged with us during the move because it might be useful. He determined that 1/3 of its length could be unscrewed. The remaining 2/3 should have unscrewed, but the two sections were either stuck or glued together. He left the IT suite with a determined look in search of a hacksaw, and came back with two pieces of PVC pipe and the comment that men should not be allowed near serrated kitchen knives. He then arranged the three lengths of PVC pipe in such a fashion that they nested into each other, creating a reassemble-able pole, loosely jointed.
At this point, a trip to Ace Hardware was required. The end of the implement you can see is a long machine bolt with a wing bolt/toggle bolt screwed down onto it. The orange tip is some kind of screw-on plastic piece which he then cut at an angle to get some kind of a point. There was a long piece of twine attached to the bolt, in case we had to separately retrieve it. The bolt was duct-taped to the end of the PVC pipe and the twine was drawn up through the three separate lengths of nest-able pipe.
We dragged the ladder out of the server room and set it up in the supply room, and my boss assayed its lofty heights. The pointy end of the implement went into the hole behind the bookcases. The second piece was threaded down the rope and nested into it, and which point, my boss secured the join with a shitload of duct tape. The third piece followed, with me keeping tension on the rope at various points, and nested but was not taped. After that, it was time for harpooning practice. After perhaps ten minutes of fiddling, Mark succeeded in stabbing the pointy plastic and toggle bolt, both, through the mislaid box to a depth at which the toggle bolt's "wings" could open up behind it, acting as a barb to keep it stuck in the box.
Then we had the fun of pulling on the string to draw up the box, disassembling the pole a piece at a time. The results are as you see: It ain't pretty, but it was indeed extracted. We're not too worried about whether or not we broke the CD media; we have lots, we just need to be able to read the license key. The fishing implement was retained as potentially useful. Some extraneous cardboard and styrofoam was taped to a computer chassis box, which we then stuffed in to cover that corner and labeled, "Do not move me," "I live here," etc.
Four to six man-hours. Because a stressed-out handyman couldn't be bothered to do it right in the first place. At least there was significant amusement value.
posted by Journey | 8:10 PM
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