Servo 17:3
Servo 17:3
Once home, I tore upstairs and shut myself in my room. Evidently, Grandma had been through cleaning. My bed was tidier than I’d left it, and one window was open to air out the room. Thinking nothing of it, I collected all my gear and sat down on the bed. The tablet was connected to the wall outlet, ensuring I would not have a power interruption. I impatiently waited while it booted up. My father was the same way when he got into a project. He’d go days without eating, sleeping, or acknowledging family. My work ethic would much the same if allowed. Unfortunately school got in the way.I removed both cores from the shoebox and connected the interface cables to the cores and my tablet. I opened the program for checking the code. The program went berserk. Silly me! Oh, yes, it’s only designed to run one core at a time. That would need to be rectified.Lacing my fingers together palm-out, I stretched and cracked my knuckles with a disturbing loudness. Mother would grumble at me when I did that. She’d say I’d get arthritis when I got older. Well, I was older now and have yet to suffer the affects. Maybe she wasn’t always right…I closed my eyes for a few long moments trying to visualize what I’d need to change in order to get the program to read both cores simultaneously. The software was fairly basic; any sixth-grader could’ve written the code. I opened the source cypher and began to scroll through lines. Ugh, it was like scanning lines of code in a core; except this program was far smaller. It wouldn’t begin to take me near as long, and the promise of headway motivated me. My fingers moved deftly on the screen “keyboard” making tiny adjustments here and there. I paid little attention to the time. My goal was only minutes from coming to fruition when Grandma knocked loudly on my door, scaring the life out of me. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Outside it was getting dark. How many hours had I been working? “Jonah?” Grandma called. “Dinner!”“Umm, okay, Grandma. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”“I made beef ribs—your favorite.”Taking in a deep breath, I realized she was correct. How had I not imbibed upon the wondrous fragrance emanating through the entire house? Was I that engrossed in my toils to not have noticed? It seemed my brain was only capable of one higher function at a time. My stomach immediately growled. I glanced at the time on the corner of the tablet screen and realized I’d sorely betrayed my appetite. It’d been hours since we’d eaten lunch. The more I breathed in the delightful aroma, the hungrier I got. The code reprogramming would have to wait until after dinner. Perhaps it was best, I needed a rest. Lines of code were becoming a blur of letters and numbers. I tromped downstairs and headed to the kitchen. Rory, Suz, and Grandpa were already at the table. Grandma quickly went to work filling my plate. “What would you like to drink, Jonah?” she asked me.“Do you have any lemonade?”“Of course.”A moment later a huge plate of meaty beef ribs was thrust in front of me, and then a tall, cold glass of sweet-tart lemonade. There was never a more perfect meal that I could think of.“Thank you, Grandma.” I wasted no time in digging in. Despite our proper upbringing, I now relished eating with my fingers. It was beautiful, messy fun that would be sorely looked down upon in the Inner States. Funny, I no longer gave much thought to what we’d left; instead, I chose to focus my thoughts and energies forward into the future. My past was slowly fading away.My teeth tore off a hunk of meat. Sauce dribbled down the corners of my mouth and chin. I licked what I could, the rest had to be mopped up with a napkin. Beef ribs had to be Grandma’s pride and joy. She made them with every ounce of love inside her. I chewed down the rich, delicate meat. Most of it was falling off the bones, so it could be consumed with ease. I glanced over and saw Suz struggling with knife and fork. She just didn’t get finger foods. Oh well, her loss. Rory on the other hand, was a saucy, greasy mess. He relished a good meal where utensils were optional. Once dinner was over, I retreated to my sanctuary. It was time to continue battling the lines of code. Making it worse was I had to compare each line on one core with the corresponding line on the other core. I’m sure this very undertaking has led to the premature insanity of many men. And since I’d done it already, I knew this project would take several weeks.Settling on my bed, I opened the program and picked up where I’d left off:
Old core: New core://boot2334-route-888.path.54677/trans | //boot2334-route-888.path.54677/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54678/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54679/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54680/trans //boot2334-route-888.path.54681/trans | //boot2334-route-888.path.54681/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54682/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54683/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54684/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54685/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54686/trans
Despite the necessary dinner break, my eyes were still bugging out after a short few minutes. As I prepared to index to the next screen, I paused, trying to catch my breath. I was glad I did. Upon a secondary inspection of the code on the old core, I spotted the tiniest of errors:
//boot2334-route-888,path.54683/trans
Had I discovered the root of all my failure? Was one miniscule comma causing the entire core to malfunction? My mouth went dry as I scrutinized the offending punctuation mark. Yes, there it was, plain as day. Without a second thought, I corrected the error. How had I missed that the first time around? Fatigue. Yes, I’ll chalk it up to fatigue. Were there more? Only time, patience, and perseverance would tell.
Once home, I tore upstairs and shut myself in my room. Evidently, Grandma had been through cleaning. My bed was tidier than I’d left it, and one window was open to air out the room. Thinking nothing of it, I collected all my gear and sat down on the bed. The tablet was connected to the wall outlet, ensuring I would not have a power interruption. I impatiently waited while it booted up. My father was the same way when he got into a project. He’d go days without eating, sleeping, or acknowledging family. My work ethic would much the same if allowed. Unfortunately school got in the way.I removed both cores from the shoebox and connected the interface cables to the cores and my tablet. I opened the program for checking the code. The program went berserk. Silly me! Oh, yes, it’s only designed to run one core at a time. That would need to be rectified.Lacing my fingers together palm-out, I stretched and cracked my knuckles with a disturbing loudness. Mother would grumble at me when I did that. She’d say I’d get arthritis when I got older. Well, I was older now and have yet to suffer the affects. Maybe she wasn’t always right…I closed my eyes for a few long moments trying to visualize what I’d need to change in order to get the program to read both cores simultaneously. The software was fairly basic; any sixth-grader could’ve written the code. I opened the source cypher and began to scroll through lines. Ugh, it was like scanning lines of code in a core; except this program was far smaller. It wouldn’t begin to take me near as long, and the promise of headway motivated me. My fingers moved deftly on the screen “keyboard” making tiny adjustments here and there. I paid little attention to the time. My goal was only minutes from coming to fruition when Grandma knocked loudly on my door, scaring the life out of me. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Outside it was getting dark. How many hours had I been working? “Jonah?” Grandma called. “Dinner!”“Umm, okay, Grandma. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”“I made beef ribs—your favorite.”Taking in a deep breath, I realized she was correct. How had I not imbibed upon the wondrous fragrance emanating through the entire house? Was I that engrossed in my toils to not have noticed? It seemed my brain was only capable of one higher function at a time. My stomach immediately growled. I glanced at the time on the corner of the tablet screen and realized I’d sorely betrayed my appetite. It’d been hours since we’d eaten lunch. The more I breathed in the delightful aroma, the hungrier I got. The code reprogramming would have to wait until after dinner. Perhaps it was best, I needed a rest. Lines of code were becoming a blur of letters and numbers. I tromped downstairs and headed to the kitchen. Rory, Suz, and Grandpa were already at the table. Grandma quickly went to work filling my plate. “What would you like to drink, Jonah?” she asked me.“Do you have any lemonade?”“Of course.”A moment later a huge plate of meaty beef ribs was thrust in front of me, and then a tall, cold glass of sweet-tart lemonade. There was never a more perfect meal that I could think of.“Thank you, Grandma.” I wasted no time in digging in. Despite our proper upbringing, I now relished eating with my fingers. It was beautiful, messy fun that would be sorely looked down upon in the Inner States. Funny, I no longer gave much thought to what we’d left; instead, I chose to focus my thoughts and energies forward into the future. My past was slowly fading away.My teeth tore off a hunk of meat. Sauce dribbled down the corners of my mouth and chin. I licked what I could, the rest had to be mopped up with a napkin. Beef ribs had to be Grandma’s pride and joy. She made them with every ounce of love inside her. I chewed down the rich, delicate meat. Most of it was falling off the bones, so it could be consumed with ease. I glanced over and saw Suz struggling with knife and fork. She just didn’t get finger foods. Oh well, her loss. Rory on the other hand, was a saucy, greasy mess. He relished a good meal where utensils were optional. Once dinner was over, I retreated to my sanctuary. It was time to continue battling the lines of code. Making it worse was I had to compare each line on one core with the corresponding line on the other core. I’m sure this very undertaking has led to the premature insanity of many men. And since I’d done it already, I knew this project would take several weeks.Settling on my bed, I opened the program and picked up where I’d left off:
Old core: New core://boot2334-route-888.path.54677/trans | //boot2334-route-888.path.54677/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54678/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54679/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54680/trans //boot2334-route-888.path.54681/trans | //boot2334-route-888.path.54681/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54682/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54683/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54684/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54685/trans//boot2334-route-... | //boot2334-route-888.path.54686/trans
Despite the necessary dinner break, my eyes were still bugging out after a short few minutes. As I prepared to index to the next screen, I paused, trying to catch my breath. I was glad I did. Upon a secondary inspection of the code on the old core, I spotted the tiniest of errors:
//boot2334-route-888,path.54683/trans
Had I discovered the root of all my failure? Was one miniscule comma causing the entire core to malfunction? My mouth went dry as I scrutinized the offending punctuation mark. Yes, there it was, plain as day. Without a second thought, I corrected the error. How had I missed that the first time around? Fatigue. Yes, I’ll chalk it up to fatigue. Were there more? Only time, patience, and perseverance would tell.
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