From: Cynthia Beal cabeal@efn.org (Someplace outside Eugene, Oregon)

Subject: A couple of tales - Beal and Walsh

April, 1999

A recent encounter with my truck mechanic echoes this post from Christopher Walsh, at the bottom of this page:

Last week, I picked up my trusty 64 Dodge from my new mechanic whom I was anxious to develop a good rapport with. Any of you folks with old trucks know how valuable it is to find someone who's actually touched these iron beasts of burden. The manuals at the time were mostly in your head (gotta' punch this place real hard with your fist while you pull this lever to open it - that sort of thing you don't find in "Dodge 64 Tips and Tricks from the Pros").

When I saw the oily computer terminal in prominent position in the middle of the shop, I swallowed hard and prepared to speak. (Any of you who have been involved in "y2k awareness" know that you're taking your community life into your hands when you do this, too...)

"What have you done about that thing and y2k?" I asked congenially, pointing to the grimy beast printing out my invoice.

He looked a little surprised, not expecting that question from the 5 foot tall woman in muddy blue jeans, rubber Oregon cowboy boots, and a tangled pony tail. He reached under the counter and pulled out a letter, dated September, 1998, from the company that sold him the software program and computer. "They sent me this, saying that my system wouldn't work, but that they're going to send me a software upgrade to fix it."

"Hmmm," I mused aloud. "September, huh? It's almost May. Have you heard back from them?"

"Nope. This was the only thing they said."

I glanced over the letter. Standard language disclaimers - it doesn't work, we're developing an upgrade, we'll try, we expect, we plan, blah, blah, blah. "I don't see anything about hardware here. Is that terminal yours, or theirs?"

"Mine. I was planning on getting a whole new computer anyway." We look at the Spectra unit on his desk. He said it was 5 years old. Seems prime for problems to me - certainly fits into the class of things to check. "The company said that their upgrade might not work on this system, so I guess I'll have to get some new software, too."

"You and everyone else, all at the last minute, huh?" We roll our eyes. "How important is this system to you?" I ask.

He becomes animated. "It's great! I paid ten thousand dollars for it, and it immediately cut 4 hours of paperwork out of my day. I got to bill more for my work, I could shop for parts, do estimates..." He proceeded to take me through the paperwork process, showing me how it did inventories, transferred estimates to invoices to statements, and a number of other time-saving, paper-saving tricks that made independent mechanics' lives difficult 10 years ago, when they were trying to compete with the big car shops.

"OK look," I said. "You don't want to lose this system, and I don't want to lose you. My last truck mechanic just went out of business, and I'm not about to shop for another one just because you didn't keep up with Y2k, without me pestering you a little. Do you have resources to check and fix the hardware?"

"My son is in computer science up at OSU. He knows all about this thing."

"Well," I said, "Why don't you get him down here, and you two go over this puppy and download the checker you need to scope and patch the system and the hardware? If it's fine, no skin off your nose, and it's out of your hair. If you get it fixed, then you can be assured that even if the software company comes out with a patch that's late, your hardware's not going to be the reason you have a problem."

"Who knows?" I muse. "You may end up having quite a billing service here - if a number of your fellow mechanics don't get their software fixed in time, and end up being delayed, you might be able to hire a couple of folks and do their billing for them til they get back up and running. On the other hand, your son could get some good summer work fixing other mechanics' systems. "

He looks a little skeptical. He's an independent sort, not used to banding together with fellow mechanics. "Here's how it might go," I begin. "If only a few of you - say half of you - get your systems fixed in time, there may not be enough of you paying customers to keep this software company in business. But if a lot of you get ready now, and prod this company to get the upgrade out, perhaps they'll think that there will be a market that could still serve you. On the other hand, they could figure that only about 10-20% of you will fix your stuff in time, and that won't be any reason to stick around."

I don't even burden him with the notion that this company is not just a software company - it's a data-distribution company. Access to current up-to-date information about parts, suppliers, prices, inventory levels, shipping times, from points around the world etc. is what he buys with his monthly subscription fee. I can't imagine how in the world this company is going to even stay in continuous business - at least for the months of January and February, 2000 - given the debacle implied in the Fortune GM article last April. It's not their software that's the problem - it's the information they sell. Will it be there? Does this company even need to stay in business, or have they done the bulk of their selling, and will they just close up shop, rather than spend money on the maintenance? It's all speculation at this stage, and it's major value is as a reminder to hedge all bets, and be extremely cautious with assumptions about the future.

He seems to see the prudence in my "get it done now" words. I write him a check, and tell him to give me a call if he needs anything.

Funny thing how "country" people seem to get it. The feed store sign says "Y2k chicks and turkeys are in." These folks think ahead. They know that the egg and chicken farms run on automated environment systems. They also know it takes 8 months to raise up a pullet to good laying age. They know eggs come in refrigerated trucks, in a system run by complicated interactions facilitated by computers. You don't buy chicks in January; you buy them in April. That way you have eggs in January. They know that.

They also know that, out here in the rural parts, we're considered "end of the line".

My truck starts right up. I mentally flip to my Y2k list of Mission-Critical systems, and put a little check mark next to "Inventory/Awareness - Mechanic."

Gosh, my truck runs good.

--Cynthia Beal

-- Bill (billdale@lakesnet.net), May 02, 1999