War Stories - The Laptop at the Window

Disclaimer: One part of this story is not factual. This protects me so I can say “Hey, I made that part up. It’s just a story.”

I’ve had a few jobs with big infrastructures, and this was one of the biggest. Over 2000 sites on a massive network, with an SCCM footprint and group policy to match. I was in the Solutions team, and my main responsibility was to empty the too-hard basket. Anything that required automation or in some other way was an absolute pain to do, that work was mine to resolve.

There was a project to build a bigger and better web proxy than the one we had. The BFP, as it was known internally. For this to happen, we would need to change the pac file on a Group Policy object at every site. Do you know who that tedious job was given to? Because I do.

There were a few pieces to help me get this done. The schedule was being added into SharePoint, so I could programmatically read which sites were being converted and when. I was given a laptop to install this expensive PowerShell module that could edit group policy preferences. At the time that couldn’t be done natively (has this changed? I haven’t looked into that). To put it all together I had Microsoft Orchestrator as a workflow tool. That was the key component as it had loads of integration packs that could take data from one system and use it in another.

I set up a workflow that would check Sharepoint and get that night's work, and then trigger a script on the laptop to change the pac file in the group policy object.

Every day it was part of my job to make those changes, and when I resigned the laptop kept doing that job. For an entire year.

Whenever I’d catch up with a former colleague for lunch or a drink, one of the first things they would tell me was that the laptop was still there. There was a sign on it: “Do Not Touch.”

Over that year the laptop became a legend, more famous there than I ever was. For a year, no one sat at my sought after window seat overlooking downtown Sydney. It was forbidden to go near that laptop. It became shrouded in mystery. As more people left the company, there were less people who remembered what the laptop actually did. All that was known was that it was best to not go near it. Not even my old boss checked in on it, but then again, a good manager doesn’t need to check up on employees who are delivering.

Once the laptop had updated the pac files at every site, it retired. The laptop by the window passed from legend to myth. People still bring it up now and again, without ever knowing what it did.

What it did was touch people's hearts. Unfortunately what it did not do was earn me any extra money for that year. That laptop worked harder than some people I know.

I'm not sure if there's a moral to this story. Perhaps it's a precautionary tale about machines taking human jobs (and desks). Maybe it's a microcosm of how the world should find better ways to perform menial tasks so that we can evolve.

Or possibly it's about a little laptop that for a shinning moment was more than a laptop.

P.S. If anyone happens to know where that laptop is now, please contact me. I think I want it bronzed.