Porch Envy

As mentioned in previous blog entries, there is a major renovation that has been going on at the next door neighbor's house since Spring. Over the course of the project, I have had occasion to go over to inspect the work and to marvel at the miracle of construction.

As one who is measure-mentally challenged ( I measure twice and cut thrice ), I have huge respect for anyone who can competently mitre a joint or operate heavy machinery without maiming themselves or others.

During my career as a systems guy, I often used the construction metaphor to explain the complexity of information systems projects.

I always justified the time spent on requirements gathering as similar to the importance of laying a stable foundation for a building. Many business applications are like a structure that has been modified incrementally over the years, to become a hodge podge of modules that are both unsightly and dysfunctional. Sometimes you just have to gut the damn thing and start all over with a new design.

A project to develop a business systems solution is much like a construction project. Certain tasks must be done in exquisitely planned sequence at predefined points in time. A team of workers, each with his own specialty needs to be deployed, communicated with, evaluated and rewarded (or more likely, corrected).

But a business systems development project is a piece-of-cake compared to construction. The bulk of risk for an application development project is managing team member's activities. The main resources are human. There is not a fundamental dependence on the arrival of certain materials at key junctures. This dependence upon external deliveries and the immutable pressures of climate, gravity and entropy make the construction project a risky and complex endeavor. And the worksite is a true Hellhole of noise, dust and micro-managed tasks.

More amazing is the realization that these projects are accomplished by individuals who are largely uneducated, uninformed and practically deaf. I assure you I am not being a snob in making these observations. As I say, I am right next door and have had an ample amount of time to spend puttering around my own garden or attempting to read in a quiet back yard. The banging starts around 8am and goes on most of the day (except for break times) through 4pm when the workers drive off like a swarm of locusts - probably to the nearest bar. Because of the constant pounding and sawing and other noise, most of the workers have apparently become deafened. When they talk to each other they always shout. Even when they are on break.

Thus it is not hard to overhear the substance and tone of their discussions, which I assure you seldom rises to the level of art history, philosophy or even politics. Generally the topics cover some or all of the following:

- Pit bulls make nice pets
- Did you hear about the lady who won $4 million on a scratch ticket?
- Nomar was a jerk
- My Jimmy is better than your F150.
- Whose turn is it to go get donuts?

You get the idea.

Miraculously, this crew is able to make something functional and beautiful through their combination of skills and the ability to follow orders precisely.

As the summer has progressed, I have been gradually possessed by a feeling of envy for my neighbor's porch. A feeling of emptiness has welled-up in my soul as I sit in my 9X9' metal-framed, vinyl roofed screen house. My neighbor was probably languishing on fine furniture in his huge screened-in porch, sipping fine scotch, puffing on expensive cigars and listening to cool jazz on his installed sound system, while I was cramped into my little screen house, sitting in my resin lawn chairs, drinking cheap domestic beer, listening to talk radio on my portable walkman. I felt something was missing.

One day last week, I asked the Builder if he was looking for any new projects. He said he already had plenty of work, but was always looking for new projects. I told him of my dream to have a screened porch instead of my little screen house.
He liked the idea of a project that did not require the use of a back-hoe and thirty tons of concrete. We got to talking. He made some measurements, sketched out a drawing, and before you knew it, we had agreed to a project.

So, my home is about to become a construction site. A Hellhole. I need to get a job, for obvious reasons.