Murphy's Curse
Today, being the last day of 2007, I was cursed with the worst all techie curses... I was cursed by the Great Murphy himself.
No, 't was not fun.
On the last day of the year, you normally don't do much. You finish some stuff, drink a beer and have a general chat with your colleagues. Oh and you utterly destroy copiers.
We were just chatting when my boss suddenly asked "the copier runs some black dirty stains across the paper, could you have a look?" Sure no problem. It'll be fixed in a minute... yeah right. Normally it *really* is fixed in a minute, take printer offline, run cleaning wizards, bring it back online, test, done... no worries. Unless Murphy cursed you himself. For your amusement I'll run you people through the general chain of events. Things got from bad to worse.
Taking the printer/copier offline wasn't much of a problem. This makes sure no annoying users start printing while I am half inside this machine. That's not fun to say the least. Even though it's got a ton of sensors disallowing it to print it has happened in the past that I blocked a sensor with a finger or screwdriver and thus told the machine everything is closed and ready to print. I repeat, this is not fun, high-volume laserprinters are bloody hot inside and have a ton of rolling and rotating mechanism thingies. Getting stuck among them is not one of my hobbies and I prefer to start the new year without any scorchmarks, thank you very much.
Secondly, I ran the cleaner thingy. That's when things started to get 'fun'. I had seen the black smears, so my user/boss was not lying (for once). Yet, the cleaner thingy told me that cleaning was not necessary. I hate so-called intelligent machines. Especially if I can't override them. The printer said "I don't need cleaning" and whatever I did, I could not get it to clean. This printer was honestly telling me "to f?ck off *I* know what I'm doing", were it not that it didn't know. Pity.
So that's when I decided to get smart and clean it manually. I ran several test sheets to figure out which roller/fuser/toner/thingy made the stains and ... tadadum ... screw it lose. You know those nice screws with the funny signs next to them that say: "Only for service personnel". Well, it were those screws. And yes I now know why only service personnel are allowed to unscrew them, but let me tell the story in it's proper order. So the thingy is unscrewed, I gently pulled it lose, it wouldn't give at first so I pulled it a tiny bit more until it gave. That's when I noticed it was connected by about a dozen wires on the back. Short wires, I might add. So I couldn't get it out of the machine and needed to perform my cleaningjob inside. No problem, I can do this, done in a bit. Gently rubbed it, blew it clean with canned air and kept it all dry. Nothing stupid here just basic cleaning.
When I inserted the element back... well it wouldn't. Period. I pushed it some more. Still wouldn't. Eventually I pressed it hard and it went like *click*. In my world click is good. Click is not snap. Snap is bad. ICT is really that simple. So I got out the screws, and screwed it in place. At least, that was the plan. I could screw one of them in, but not the other. If I screwed the other in... the first one wouldn't go. Also in my little fantasy world: all screws that come out need to go back in. We leave no screw behind. So this was the moment where I started to feel a bit worried. I realized I was tinkering with parts that had told me 'do not tinker' in a machine that had made it very clear it didn't *want* to be cleaned. A machine, also, with a replacement value of only about my annual salary.
*swallow*
And I did manage to get from bad into worse. I tried to screw, and screw a bit more... and then my screw dropped, deep inside the machine. Usually not so big a deal... but in this case this machine had specifically told me that it really, really didn't want me there. So it decided to strike. With my magnetized screwdriver I gently lifted the screw from where it was and when I had it nearly out, some flapping-rolling part of the machine flapped and rolled, or did whatever it is it usually does... and as it did that, it knocked against the screw which dropped again and vanished. Honestly, it was gone. It had disappeared into thin air. It had been banished from this world.
That's about when I realized that the size of the screws was not your standard, run-of-the-mill computer screw. Noooo, these were a speeecial screw for a speeeecial (and have I told already: very expensive) machine. Bugger. So I needed *that* screw. Right, got my penlight out, peered closely and deeply into the bowels of the machine and still could not find it. It took me over half an hour to finally realize that the screw was stuck *behind* another roller thingy under a plastic ledge which I could not reach.
Correct that. Which normal people wouldn't be able to reach. Me being in total geekmode started unscrewing the part that held the roller thingy. That was the point where I started drawing a crowd. My cursing and the fact that the copier was already offline for nearly an hour was being noted by some colleagues. Luckily for them they know me well enough not to point and give advice. Under normal conditions I am dangerous when people do that, but in geekmode it would be lethal.
Enters da boss... Looked at me, looked at his multi-multi-thousand euro machine, looked at the lose parts covering the floor and all the wires sticking out and asked "couldn't you just run the cleaning tool?". I drew my make-up-wearing-blonde-face and answered "It has one? Then I don't need to use my bucket of warm water and green soap to clean it for you..." After he had left and I scared off my colleagues to wherever they go on December 31sts, I dove back into the machine again. I would fix it, even if it was the last thing I did this year. Which was pretty much correct. I got out the part-with-the-roller-that-ate-my-screw. I unscrewed the holder-of-the-roller-on-the-part-with-the-roller-that-ate-my-screw and started nudging the screw out. To keep matters simple and short, it wouldn't, not in a million years. Not, unless someone would take apart the roller. So I did. Eventually, I had my screw and a handful of small metal and plastic parts and two 1cm. long springs. And I had no clue how it worked because disassembling it was a matter of getting lose the covering plastic thing which also held the springs in place. Get it off and the whole thing falls apart. Funny.
It took me another half hour to find out how the thing mechanically worked. Great, actually it was a very smart idea of keeping a roller in place. It was all just soooo incredibly smaaaall, and the only way of getting it all back together was by retensioning the springs. This took me the bigger part of an hour. I attempted it a zillion times and every time something would make it go *pop* and disassemble again. Finally, finally, finally I had it back in, locked the roller back, screwed the cover in place and restored the part into the machine. Right. Got screws, got cleansed part that wouldn't go in. Put it back with some force, and screwed in both sides. Closed the machine, tested it, and as you may imagine... it did *not* work.
Back to unscrewing again, but now there was no way I would get out one of the screws. Which at the current time and place started to slightly annoy me. I eventually got it out by pushing with great force the metal casing that held the screw through the plastic hole. I now had casing with screw inside. Got out some more tools and managed to get the screw out of the casing *without* actually damaging either. I was mighty proud of myself about that... I know, I know, but at that time I was happy with anything. Now I started to figure out *how* I was going to put back the casing in the plastic hole. And that's when I finally had this brainwave. The casing was not *supposed* to be there in the first place... that was the reason why the entire thing was so hard to get out and put back in. The casing was supposed to go somewhere *behind* the hole so the screw had something to screw into... and if you still understand what I am telling here *you* are totally screwed.
I placed the casing back where it belonged while cursing all printers, copiers, producers and designers to hell. With the casing in its right place, the cleansed part fell in place without any problems and allowed me to return both screws. I restored the coverings of the machine. Switched it on, ran a test and was very, very, very happy to see it functioning again.
However...
The paper that got out.
Was.
Still.
Stained.
Only a tiny bit less.
That's when I decided to write my blog and go home.
Happy new years.
No, 't was not fun.
On the last day of the year, you normally don't do much. You finish some stuff, drink a beer and have a general chat with your colleagues. Oh and you utterly destroy copiers.
We were just chatting when my boss suddenly asked "the copier runs some black dirty stains across the paper, could you have a look?" Sure no problem. It'll be fixed in a minute... yeah right. Normally it *really* is fixed in a minute, take printer offline, run cleaning wizards, bring it back online, test, done... no worries. Unless Murphy cursed you himself. For your amusement I'll run you people through the general chain of events. Things got from bad to worse.
Taking the printer/copier offline wasn't much of a problem. This makes sure no annoying users start printing while I am half inside this machine. That's not fun to say the least. Even though it's got a ton of sensors disallowing it to print it has happened in the past that I blocked a sensor with a finger or screwdriver and thus told the machine everything is closed and ready to print. I repeat, this is not fun, high-volume laserprinters are bloody hot inside and have a ton of rolling and rotating mechanism thingies. Getting stuck among them is not one of my hobbies and I prefer to start the new year without any scorchmarks, thank you very much.
Secondly, I ran the cleaner thingy. That's when things started to get 'fun'. I had seen the black smears, so my user/boss was not lying (for once). Yet, the cleaner thingy told me that cleaning was not necessary. I hate so-called intelligent machines. Especially if I can't override them. The printer said "I don't need cleaning" and whatever I did, I could not get it to clean. This printer was honestly telling me "to f?ck off *I* know what I'm doing", were it not that it didn't know. Pity.
So that's when I decided to get smart and clean it manually. I ran several test sheets to figure out which roller/fuser/toner/thingy made the stains and ... tadadum ... screw it lose. You know those nice screws with the funny signs next to them that say: "Only for service personnel". Well, it were those screws. And yes I now know why only service personnel are allowed to unscrew them, but let me tell the story in it's proper order. So the thingy is unscrewed, I gently pulled it lose, it wouldn't give at first so I pulled it a tiny bit more until it gave. That's when I noticed it was connected by about a dozen wires on the back. Short wires, I might add. So I couldn't get it out of the machine and needed to perform my cleaningjob inside. No problem, I can do this, done in a bit. Gently rubbed it, blew it clean with canned air and kept it all dry. Nothing stupid here just basic cleaning.
When I inserted the element back... well it wouldn't. Period. I pushed it some more. Still wouldn't. Eventually I pressed it hard and it went like *click*. In my world click is good. Click is not snap. Snap is bad. ICT is really that simple. So I got out the screws, and screwed it in place. At least, that was the plan. I could screw one of them in, but not the other. If I screwed the other in... the first one wouldn't go. Also in my little fantasy world: all screws that come out need to go back in. We leave no screw behind. So this was the moment where I started to feel a bit worried. I realized I was tinkering with parts that had told me 'do not tinker' in a machine that had made it very clear it didn't *want* to be cleaned. A machine, also, with a replacement value of only about my annual salary.
*swallow*
And I did manage to get from bad into worse. I tried to screw, and screw a bit more... and then my screw dropped, deep inside the machine. Usually not so big a deal... but in this case this machine had specifically told me that it really, really didn't want me there. So it decided to strike. With my magnetized screwdriver I gently lifted the screw from where it was and when I had it nearly out, some flapping-rolling part of the machine flapped and rolled, or did whatever it is it usually does... and as it did that, it knocked against the screw which dropped again and vanished. Honestly, it was gone. It had disappeared into thin air. It had been banished from this world.
That's about when I realized that the size of the screws was not your standard, run-of-the-mill computer screw. Noooo, these were a speeecial screw for a speeeecial (and have I told already: very expensive) machine. Bugger. So I needed *that* screw. Right, got my penlight out, peered closely and deeply into the bowels of the machine and still could not find it. It took me over half an hour to finally realize that the screw was stuck *behind* another roller thingy under a plastic ledge which I could not reach.
Correct that. Which normal people wouldn't be able to reach. Me being in total geekmode started unscrewing the part that held the roller thingy. That was the point where I started drawing a crowd. My cursing and the fact that the copier was already offline for nearly an hour was being noted by some colleagues. Luckily for them they know me well enough not to point and give advice. Under normal conditions I am dangerous when people do that, but in geekmode it would be lethal.
Enters da boss... Looked at me, looked at his multi-multi-thousand euro machine, looked at the lose parts covering the floor and all the wires sticking out and asked "couldn't you just run the cleaning tool?". I drew my make-up-wearing-blonde-face and answered "It has one? Then I don't need to use my bucket of warm water and green soap to clean it for you..." After he had left and I scared off my colleagues to wherever they go on December 31sts, I dove back into the machine again. I would fix it, even if it was the last thing I did this year. Which was pretty much correct. I got out the part-with-the-roller-that-ate-my-screw. I unscrewed the holder-of-the-roller-on-the-part-with-the-roller-that-ate-my-screw and started nudging the screw out. To keep matters simple and short, it wouldn't, not in a million years. Not, unless someone would take apart the roller. So I did. Eventually, I had my screw and a handful of small metal and plastic parts and two 1cm. long springs. And I had no clue how it worked because disassembling it was a matter of getting lose the covering plastic thing which also held the springs in place. Get it off and the whole thing falls apart. Funny.
It took me another half hour to find out how the thing mechanically worked. Great, actually it was a very smart idea of keeping a roller in place. It was all just soooo incredibly smaaaall, and the only way of getting it all back together was by retensioning the springs. This took me the bigger part of an hour. I attempted it a zillion times and every time something would make it go *pop* and disassemble again. Finally, finally, finally I had it back in, locked the roller back, screwed the cover in place and restored the part into the machine. Right. Got screws, got cleansed part that wouldn't go in. Put it back with some force, and screwed in both sides. Closed the machine, tested it, and as you may imagine... it did *not* work.
Back to unscrewing again, but now there was no way I would get out one of the screws. Which at the current time and place started to slightly annoy me. I eventually got it out by pushing with great force the metal casing that held the screw through the plastic hole. I now had casing with screw inside. Got out some more tools and managed to get the screw out of the casing *without* actually damaging either. I was mighty proud of myself about that... I know, I know, but at that time I was happy with anything. Now I started to figure out *how* I was going to put back the casing in the plastic hole. And that's when I finally had this brainwave. The casing was not *supposed* to be there in the first place... that was the reason why the entire thing was so hard to get out and put back in. The casing was supposed to go somewhere *behind* the hole so the screw had something to screw into... and if you still understand what I am telling here *you* are totally screwed.
I placed the casing back where it belonged while cursing all printers, copiers, producers and designers to hell. With the casing in its right place, the cleansed part fell in place without any problems and allowed me to return both screws. I restored the coverings of the machine. Switched it on, ran a test and was very, very, very happy to see it functioning again.
However...
The paper that got out.
Was.
Still.
Stained.
Only a tiny bit less.
That's when I decided to write my blog and go home.
Happy new years.
posted by TheFabulousJourney at
12:57 pm
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