Cron & my friend LogRotate

Sometimes it happens that logrotate doesn’t rotate. It becomes just log. The log command in itself isn’t useful – So, of course, I spent some time figuring out how to tell log to change into logrotate.

After many long days of heroically saving the day, I finally traced the culprit back to Cron. I would have heroically killed the villain, but the villain was dead. Cron had stopped.

So I restarted it, and went on my merry way. Life goes on, and sometimes even your most trusted companion flakes.


The sun had fully crossed the horizon. The boy stood up and kicked away his milk crate, taking care not to knock over any of the water pails. He silently wrenched open the door, still hanging on a hinge, and grabbed his bike. Biking into town took roughly an hour, if it was dry and he used the back paths. But he couldn’t – It was raining, and the backroads would be mud. Either way, he couldn’t be late.

He worked as a doorman at the Concord Hotel in Oklahoma City. It wasn’t a bad job, per se. It existed, and it payed, and that was all that the boy needed. He got to meet some famous people – At least, as famous as you get in Oklahoma. Today his boss said that some big internet bigwig was going to throw a fundraising party. Whether or not is was as important as his boss made it out to be, the boy felt a need to be there.

Fancy cars don’t show up in Oklahoma very often. Much less Aston Martins. This one had a middle aged man in it, with his wife and daughter in the back seat.

“Hey kid. You got valet parking here?” The man put emphasis on ‘kid.’

“Yes sir. May I take your bags?” The boy was a little taken aback at his tone. His wife was carefully avoid eye contact. His daughter made a slight apologetic shrug from the back seat.

The man shot back “Aren’t you a little young to be hauling bags?” It was obvious that he did not want some hillbilly to touch his leather bags. The boy paused for a moment. “No sir.” The man narrowed his eyes “Well. I think we got our bags.” He paused as he pulled a massive suitcase out of the back “Thank you anyway. Where the valet?” He tossed his keys at the valet, who caught them with a certain trained proficiency. The businessman picked a penny off of the ground and flipped it at the boy, saying “Consider it a tip.”

The boy hid his hurt feelings. Not good for business. The businessman marched, and his family walked, through the plaster archway into the hotel. The other doorman stoically closed the door behind them, and splashed through the wet sidewalk back to the boy, who was eying the penny. The rain had stopped for the moment. The two of them watched the bright red Vantage roar to the parking garage. The other doorman spoke up in a heavy imitation of a southern accent “She was durn pretty.”

The boy faked a small smile. “You think so, Tom?”

“Durn right I do.” He gave a small sigh “You know kid, don’t let them jerks get you down. They come and go, but life goes on.”

The boy stopped smiling, still eying the penny in his palm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tom turned away to greet the next visitor: A station wagon crammed full of kids driving across the country to visit grandma.

The boy chucked the penny into a mud puddle before opening the door for the new visitors. Across the street, the sun hung low over the the grocers. The sun cast an angelic light from behind Ma and Pa’s Grocer, which was a nice homely store, tucked away between a McDonalds and a gas station. The boy didn’t particularly like it there, as it reminded him of his own ramshackle house, but he bought his groceries there. Looking around, he noticed the street was empty: Both ways rows of buildings sat, empty of life. Closing time for everyone else. The boy checked his pocketwatch: Only forty more minutes of greeting wealthy businessmen, then his shift was over.

Half an hour later, the boy turned around from helping an elderly lady out of her Beetle to find the daughter of the business man. She asked “You’re the kid from an hour ago?”

The boy gave a slight nod.

The girl responded “Yeah. Hey, sorry about my father being a jerk. It’s just how he works, I guess” She let out a nervous laugh “Hey, anything happening around here tonight?”

The boy remained expressionless, and pointed at a diner a few blocks down. “They get real busy in about an hour.”

She nodded “Thanks,” and walked to the valet to get her father’s car.

The boy took his leave, and started biking home. The rain was starting up again, and he wanted to beat it home.

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