In my Copious Amounts Of Spare Time, I’ve been trying to get my Packet8 DTA310 SIP telephone adapter to talk to my Asterisk PBX software. I was never successful in setting the SIP settings of the DTA310 so that it would register itself with the Asterisk.

I saw last night that Packet 8 has a new firmware update for the DTA. On the slim chance that it would solve my problems, I installed it last night.

Long story short, I went to bed disappointed. The new firmware supposedly fixes a lot of sound-quality issues with the adapter. However, it also hides the SIP settings behind a password-protected “Adavanced Configuration” page. Of course, there is no password, so there’s no way to set them. I retired for the evening thinking I’d have to revert to the old firmware.

Things looked different this morning, though. Kelly told me she heard ringing from the phone plugged into the adapter. Hmmm. After calling the Asterisk server from my mobile phone, the SIP phone did indeed ring!

So it seems the firmware actually DID fix my SIP registration problem. Only problem is, all the settings are still hidden from view. Now I face the prospect of flashing the old firmware in order to change the settings and then reflashing the current firmware to get those settings to work. Argggh! What a headache!

On the other hand, maybe I could just call up Packet 8 and get them to divulge the secret password to unlock the appropriate settings. Then I’d have it all.

Stay tuned for how things work out.

Just in time for lunch, I found an NBC Dateline report on dirty restaurant chains.

Now, where to grab lunch…?

I was scanning Slashdot this morning when I saw an interview with Georgy Russell, who recently ran for California governor. One of Georgy’s blog entries asked why rappers haven’t begun blogging.

I had to jump in and tell her that Chuck D, the legendary leader of Public Enemy, has got his own blog. In fact, he’s had one since 1999, longer than I have or any of my blogging friends.

So after pointing that out to Georgy, I decided I should add Chuck’s weblog to my links page, since the man shoots straight. I’ll also add Georgy to the list, too, because Governator or no Governator, we haven’t heard the last from her.

Looks like the war in Iraq is over. And we lost. Hang it up and go home, guys.

We’re now stooping to the level of the Israelis by bulldozing the family homes of suspects in the Blackhawk helicopter downings. Nevermind that these are only suspects and we haven’t made our case. Nevermind that the CIA has repeatedly warned that such tactics could only backfire. Someone, somewhere, thought it was a good idea.

What a way to win the trust of the populace. What a way to show we’re making Iraq better. Does anyone in charge of our military understand that these people lived under Saddam’s autocratic rule for decades, and as such, they don’t scare easily?

Leveling homes has worked wonderfully for Israel in Palestine. Now we’re building our own Palestine in Iraq. Don’t think Iraqis don’t see the similarities. This kind of treatment is a surefire way to get those Iraqis who were indifferent to American occupation to take sides. Against us.

We’re officially screwed.

A new sales guy started yesterday who said I looked like somebody on the HBO series OZ. I never watched the show, but from what I could learn from the website, I assume he means Beecher, played by Lee Tergesen.

What do y’all think? Do you think he looks like me at all?

Two people at Tuesday’s customer visit also thought they recognized me. Guess I have a generic face.
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I’ve had the feeling the past few days that there is an important topic forming in my head. I’ve had hints of it but don’t have anything I can put down as of yet.

What it boils down to is that I’m discovering the depths of my artistic abilities, and feel the need to put them to use. Whether its writing, or sketching, or songwriting, photography…whatever. I’m feeling the need to express myself.

Part of it is my increasing self-confidence. When I tell people nowadays that I used to be painfully shy, they look at me really, really funny. I kind of find it hard to believe myself. Where I once had trouble looking people in the eye, I now do it on a regular basis. And with authority. It is no small feat to walk into a room full of total strangers, put on a song-and-dance routine, and look comfortable doing it.

But that’s what I do now for a living. And rather than be scared witless at the thought of performing without a net, I actually look FORWARD to the spontaneity of it all. Add in the constant stream of friends I make each day and I’m a happy camper. If only the travel didn’t take me away from my family, I’d be thrilled with things. That, and perhaps making slightly more money.

I hope to put these profound thoughts to postings in the near future, once I have time to settle in. Thanks for being the best test-audience available!

Well, I’m back from Portsmouth and mostly scot-free. The shirtless redneck shipworkers that were hanging around the parking lot finally went to bed. Not only that, but my king-sized bed was especially comfortable. I got to sleep with no problem at all.

Things went swimmingly until about 4:15 this morning, when the shipyard shift whistle blew two times. After that, I pretty-much didn’t get back to sleep.

The demo went well, however. It just took forever, since the customer wanted to vulnerability-scan it before putting it on their network. Fair enough, but it took hours for Nessus to run, which means I cooled my heels most of the day. Success came around 3 PM, at which time I hit the road for the long trip back to Raleigh.

Portsmouth in the daytime isn’t too bad, either. I drove past many funky neighborhoods on Mount Vernon Avenue today. It was a whole streetful of cool old homes which would fetch half a million in Oakwood or Durham, but would probably go for a fourth of that in Portsmouth. Then again, there’s that whole “no jobs in Portsmouth” problem to deal with.

At any rate, I made it back by seven, in time to be a Daddy again, and spent the rest of the evening successfully fishing giggles and smiles from our cute daughter.

I’m putting my luggage back in storage for the forseeable future. It’s time to relax for a change.

What a difference a weekend makes. Friday morning, I was waking up early to see the sun rise over a Pacific beach. This evening, I’m in that crack pipe of a city: Portsmouth, Virginia. It’s a place that makes some of those shady ports of call I made in my Navy days seem tame. I kind of expected this place to be an armpit, but the city just outdid itself. It seems like every street I passed had a cop making a traffic stop. I think the producers of the TV show COPS have a permanent room rented at the hotel. It’s a place that shirtless drunk guys could call home.

Next time, I’ll let the reseller pick the hotel. This sucks. I think my traveling fun has reached an all-time low.

I’m meeting my buddy Clint and our reseller in a few to go out to eat (there’s safety in numbers, you know). Then I’m bolting the door and hunkering down until tomorrow’s 9 AM meeting. Maybe my days living on Clanton Avenue in Raleigh will come in handy and I can remember how to sleep through gunfire.