I have started traveling on business for Microsoft. Travel has become a lot stranger since my time as Zorro in colonial California. Remember, I rode around on a horse in a mask, cape and carrying a sword. So, things getting stranger is quite an accomplishment.

 

My psychiatrist suggested that I start practicing Buddhism. It should help with the impluses to carve a Z on people's bottoms. Buddhist monks are vegetarians, but the rule for the laity is more lax. It seems that we can eat meat as long as the "food" was not specifically killed for us. This means no lobster right from the tank, for example.

 

Some weird non-violence thing happened when I was in Hong Kong. Some colleagues took me to a restaurant in Hong Kong and ordered dishes for the table. One of the dishes was "fresh fish." I wondered how fresh. If the fish is alive, I cannot eat it. I did not tell this to my colleagues. It would kind of diminish the fear of Zorro.

 

I asked if the fish is alive and the waiter disappeared. He returned about two minutes later with a big fish in a plastic bag. The fish is not moving. So, I asked again "Is it alive." I just wanted to know. If it is, I hoped the will fish just pass away painlessly in the kitchen. The waiter started shouting "Move Fish! Fish Move!" and started shaking the bag. The fish move a bit. The waiter then slamed the fish down on the floor and started kicking it. "Move Fish! Fish Move!" Finally, the fish moved to the waiter's satisfaction.

 

My colleagues looked at me like I am some kind of crazy man. I guess the legend grows.

 

I started thinking about this incident from the fish's perspective. It probably went something like this

 

"No, don't pick me from the tank. ... Oh well, I had a good life. Where is he taking me? The pot is the other way. Wow, look at all these people. Look, there's a Buddhist at the table. I AM SAVED! Hey wait. Ow. No, stop doing that. Ow! ..."

 

I cannot even begin to imagine the negative karma I earned that night.

 

I did my first customer visit yesterday. The customer is building a "composite application" for property insurace application processing. I am having a little trouble getting my mind around the concept. You have to remember that Zorro has been out of the loop for a while. I could not follow the terms.

 

I wasn't quite sure what a composite was. I had gone to the dentist earlier in the week and heard the term composite. The dentist said he was going to put a "composite filling" into one of my teeth.

 

BTW, the dentist office was pretty nice to me. My advice is to wear a cape and carry a sword the next time you visit the dentist. They'll give you some stuff that knocks the socks off of Novacaine and Nitrous-Oxide. Plus, they do not give you the injection in your mouth. They use one of those "dart gun things" you see on the National Geographic Channel when they tag polar bears.

 

Make sure that your parole officer and psychiatrist calls beforehand. Otherwise, the sword might put people off.

 

So, I was not quite sure how to map the concept of a dental filling into property insurance. Plus, the customer was building an application for processing an application? It seemed that we were going to build a meta-application for property insurance using dental equipment (Don't ask how I know about meta-*; more on that later).

 

I decided to look up "composite application" on the Web. There were definitions at http://looselycoupled.com/glossary/composite%20application and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Composite_application.

 

BTW, the Web is pretty cool. I looked up SWAT team and read the description. It seems that SWAT teams use Tasers not "teasers." That explains a lot. 

 

I used the definitions of composite application in the customer meeting, and a big fight errupted. Somethings never change about Zorro. It seems that there are many perspectives on composite applications, and SOA is only part of it. I will post again when I get a little more information.

 

Why is Zorro blogging and about what?

Hi. This is Zorro, and I joined Microsoft. Why am I blogging? It is a condition of my parole. Obviously, this needs explanation.

I have had a little trouble finding my way since the Spanish colonial control over California ended. I like fighting oppression, but had trouble finding something to sink my sword into. This doesn’t mean there weren’t worthy causes. My problem was that the authorities had developed better firearms. A rapier might work against a musket, but taking on a Glock is bad idea.

Eventually, I went to a Red Sox – Yankees baseball game, and this really interested me. I used to go to ballgames all the time, but things went horribly wrong one day at Yankee Stadium. A few of the Yankee fans were ridiculing some Red Sox fans. This was the 200^th time I had seen this happen. The Sox gave a lot of opportunities for Yankee fans to tease Sox fans.

I knew I was the only armed spectator. The police made sure that people coming into the stadium were not “packing.” I used to swing in on a rope, which was pretty cool. It got me past security. Well, I whipped out my rapier, cut one of the Yankee fan’s belt and his pants fell down. I then carved a “Z” in his butt when he tried to pick them up.

Now it was time to escape, dashingly. The Spanish colonial force could never react fast enough, and were disorganized. I was sure that I could get away from the NYPD. This is when I found out about “911,” radios and SWAT teams.

What happened after the police cornered me was odd. I did not brandish my sword because of the Glocks, but did shift into a karate/Krav Maga stance. One of the officers said “Get the ‘teasers.’” I thought, “They’re going to TEASE me. Come on! At least the Spanish colonial force tried to be serious.” After some bickering between them and me, the commander said “Tease him!” For a moment I was mildly amused, but then I heard a click and whoosh followed by a sensation that felt like I had stuck my tongue in a light socket. My mother uses to say, “Sticks and stones can break your bones but words will never hurt you.” Teasing words have definitely improved over the years and hurt like holy heck.

Making a long story short, I got parole, community service and some psych treatment due to “diminished capacity.” For community service, I explained that I like to resolve conflicts. The judge said that as long as I take my meds and do community service, I can stay out of jail. Community service was to work to peacefully resolve conflicts.

My parole officer thought I got off easy, and decided to give me the worst conflict he could imagine. My assignment is to resolve conflicts in “enterprise computing.” This includes large and small companies, solution developers, etc.

I cannot even begin to list all of the conflicts: “Why use WS-* versus Web 2.0?” “Is a browser good enough?” “Do I need an ESB?” “On-premise solutions rule and hosted solutions drool.” etc. etc. 

There are a few problems. First, I cannot use a sword. Second, how do I reach these people? There are a lot of them. I tried standing in public places and “preaching.” Apparently, the court thought I had stopped taking my meds. Not good. Finally, someone explained blogs to me.

It is not immediately clear to me that most bloggers are any better than the guy on the subway shouting to someone the rest of us cannot see. I like being out of jail, however, and will give it a try.