In a sleek, minimalist boardroom at Apple Campus 2, Aka "Apple Park," Apple's top executives, all uniformly dressed in black turtlenecks, are gathered. They're surrounded by the aura of their 'Reality Distortion Field' generator, as designed by and once used to enhance the persuasive power of Apple's co-founder, Steve Jobs. Their task is daunting yet critical: devising a strategy to comply with the EU's Digital Markets Act and Digital Services Act, laws aimed at opening up platforms to competition.

Each executive's calm determination is evident, a hallmark of the Apple ethos. On the giant screen, the complexities of the new laws are displayed. As they discuss, they are not just fueling their minds but also their bodies with unconventional choices - guacamole on toast and Ashwagandha tea, a nod to Apple's culture of thinking differently.

The conversation turns to Apple's response to the EU laws. One executive, channeling the spirit of innovation that led to groundbreaking products like the first mainstream tablet, the Apple Newton, suggests a plan. "Let's make it so convoluted and wrapped in red tape that it's technically open, but practically a labyrinth," they propose, bringing quiet, knowing laughter around the room.

"Perfect," agrees another. "We'll comply, but let's sprinkle in some Apple magic - complex notarization, a maze of moderation rules, and a hefty fee structure. After all, we can't let just anyone into our walled garden, can we?" This strategy, while adhering to the letter of the law, cleverly maintains Apple's control and profitability, key points pointed out by the other executives.

As they finalize their plan, there's a sense of accomplishment. They've managed to navigate the tricky waters of legal compliance while keeping the essence of Apple's exclusivity intact. It's a masterclass in sticking to the letter of the law, while artfully sidestepping its spirit. And thus, Apple's latest act of 'malicious compliance' is born, a decision that, without their 'Reality Distortion Field' would not sit well with customers, legislatures, rivals or critics.

As the Apple team revels in their clever compliance plan, one executive bursts out, "And the best part? We'll only do this in the EU!" The room erupts in laughter as they imagine developers around the world juggling two versions of their apps - one for the EU with all the new Apple mazes, and another for the rest of the world, as straightforward as a one-dimensional line on a three-dimensional Möbius strip inside a four-dimensional tesseract! "Talk about doubling the fun," they chuckle, raising their Ashwagandha teas in a toast to complexity.

One exec quips, "Thank goodness our 'Reality Distortion Field' is at full strength." Just then, a squirrel, a regular denizen of the park's green spaces, bursts through the ventilation. It skitters across the room, causing uproarious chaos. It leaps onto the table, causing a ballyhoo of spilled Ashwagandha tea and flying guacamole toast. The executives, momentarily flustered, watch as the 'Reality Distortion Field' seemingly flickers and thins, disrupted by this unexpected and wild intrusion of nature. The room, once a fortress of strategic planning, is momentarily thrown into a comical disarray.

• https://techcrunch.com/2024/01/25/apple-dma-changes/
• https://www.engadget.com/apples-rivals-arent-happy-about-its-eu-app-store-changes-160032585.html

I apologize if this is too long for this community or if there isn't enough maliciousness to it. This is a true story that happened to me and I have never really talked about it in detail since it happened. Feel free to skip to the TL;DR at the end.

It was nearly 25 years ago now when I joined this new company, it marked my third position since graduating from university. Prior to this role, I had gained experience as a software developer and had even taken on the responsibility of managing a small team comprising six developers and graphic designers. Some of these team members worked remotely part of the time, adding a layer of complexity to our operations. My previous employer had been a much larger corporation, making this transition to a smaller, more agile company feel akin to stepping into a startup environment.

This company's strategy was deceptively simple yet incredibly effective - the acquisition of smaller firms within the same industry, followed by their integration into the larger entity, harnessing the combined assets for remarkable success. It was an exciting and dynamic period for the company, and I eagerly embraced the opportunity to contribute to its growth and evolution. Not to mention it doubled my salary.

The company's strategy was working like a charm. Through meticulous consolidation, it rapidly transformed into an industry giant. In what felt like the blink of an eye, they would spread their services like wildfire, establishing a presence in over 30 states. It was an impressive feat, and I was excited to be part of this remarkable journey.

In the early days of this ambitious endeavor, I, along with two other contractors, was among the chosen few brought in to help lay the foundation of what would become a corporate behemoth. At that time, the company was still a fledgling entity, operating in just two states with only a handful of branches. However, they had grand aspirations and the financial backing to turn those dreams into reality. We were like pioneers, setting out to explore uncharted territory.

Our team of three was a diverse and dynamic force within the company. I had worked with each of the other team members before. We were a jack-of-all-trades, responsible for a wide array of tasks that were crucial to the company's growth. We setup and maintained new servers and managed the network infrastructure for the software services we would develop, we developed a website, an e-commerce platform along with an employee extranet and a wide variety of employee focused applications. We also advised in the purchase and setup of off the shelf solutions, we wore many hats.

This multifaceted approach allowed us to adapt swiftly to the evolving needs of the expanding business. We became an integral part of the technological infrastructure, diligently working to ensure that key aspects of the company's operations ran smoothly.

We reported directly to the Chief Information Officer (CIO) himself. He was a visionary, with big dreams for the company's technological future, but the constraints he faced were significant. The CIO had a limited amount of time on his hands, a shortage of office space, and a tight budget. The lion's share of the company's finances was being poured into the relentless acquisition of new branches, each acquisition followed by an intricate process of consolidation.

It was a challenging environment to navigate. Our CIO was juggling numerous responsibilities, but he recognized the pivotal role that technology played in achieving the company's goals.

Our work arrangement was fairly conventional by today's standards and reflected the fast-paced nature and future thinking attitude of the company at that time. We were under what could be described as an "18-month contract," though the term "contract" was somewhat loosely defined. In our line of work, such agreements were standard practice. It wasn't a traditional binding contract with a set end date. Instead, it was an ongoing commitment that either party could terminate at any time without incurring any penalties.

Many would contend that this flexibility was imperative, given the dynamic nature of our industry. Projects often concluded ahead of schedule, priorities could swiftly shift, and unforeseen challenges were a constant presence. Our work arrangement was purposefully designed to be adaptable, affording us the latitude to continue our contributions until either party found it prudent to revisit the terms or choose a different path. In practice, the company's motivation was rooted in their reluctance to be bound by an 18-month contract that mandated full payment, even if circumstances necessitated a change.

Within the fluid framework of our "18-month contract," there were some specific provisions that helped define the parameters of our engagement. Notably, the contract outlined the billing structure for our services, specifying that our work would be billed on an hourly basis, accompanied by a minimum commitment of 37 hours per week.

This minimum guarantee was primarily designed to ensure that the company had a consistent and dedicated resource available, especially when they needed our expertise for crucial tasks and projects. It allowed them to maintain a degree of control over our availability, ensuring that their projects received the attention they required, even during times of high demand or unexpected challenges. While it offered us some financial stability, its primary purpose was to serve the company's best interests in terms of resource availability and project management.

Given that desks in the hallway were a common work arrangement within the company, our contract specified we were hired to operate remotely full-time, with the sole exception being our occasional in-person attendance at essential meetings, particularly those involving stakeholders or the CIO himself.

When we made our occasional appearances at the office, we were expected to don a jacket and tie, a stark contrast to our usual remote work attire. It was as if we were stepping into a different world when we entered those hallowed halls, where formality reigned supreme, even amidst the chaos of desks in the corridors.

The beauty of our contractor status was the flexibility it afforded us in managing our work schedules. We had the autonomy to choose when, during the week, we would dedicate our time to the company's projects. Whether it was the early hours of the morning, the calm of the evening, or even the depths of the night, the choice was ours to make. The only non-negotiable requirement was our availability for scheduled meetings with stakeholders, which were infrequent and occurred during regular business hours.

Our primary point of contact within the company was the CIO, who held the reins of authority and decision-making. Most of the time, we found ourselves in direct communication with this visionary leader. Occasionally, at their discretion, we would delve into meetings with other stakeholders, seeking to understand the nuances of their roles and explore opportunities for task automation. However, these encounters were relatively rare compared to our interactions with the CIO.

Our meetings with the CIO were monthly, and early on bi-monthly. In these sessions, the CIO would lay out their vision, presenting their ideas and concepts. They valued our input, creating a collaborative atmosphere where ideas flowed freely. Once the objectives were clear, we would embark on our mission to bring their vision to life. Remarkably, the CIO proved to be a fantastic leader, appreciative of our efforts, and mostly satisfied with the results we delivered. We maintained a fluid line of communication, keeping them updated via email as needed, ensuring that their directives were executed to the best of our abilities.

As the 11th month of our contract unfolded, a significant shift occurred within the company's hierarchy. In a meeting attended by both the CIO and the newly hired Chief Technology Officer (CTO), the announcement was made that our team would now report directly to the CTO.

What made this transition all the more noteworthy was the unique context that surrounded it. The CTO was none other than the son of the CIO, a relatively young and inexperienced individual in the world of corporate technology. It was a scenario that raised eyebrows and prompted curiosity within the company. Any one of my team's members would have been a good choice for the position as we all had more overall experience than the newly hired CTO and more knowledge of the company itself.

As the weeks passed, our team diligently continued to tackle the tasks outlined in our previous meetings with the CIO. The to-do list was long but not endless, we quickly whittled away at the backlog of work that kept us occupied and head down for several weeks. However, during this time, there was a noticeable absence of communication from the newly appointed CTO. No new requests came in, no questions, no feedback, nothing.

Growing concerned about the lack of interaction, we decided to compile a detailed report summarizing our accomplishments over the past month or so. In an effort to maintain transparency and keep the lines of communication open, we sent this report to the CTO, with the CIO copied on the correspondence.

The response we received, though, was unexpected. The CTO promptly replied, directing us to channel all future communications exclusively through them and explicitly instructing us not to copy the CIO on any further correspondence. This shift in communication protocol raised questions and heightened our curiosity but is was written off to the CIO being overwhelmed and the CTO wanting to take charge and be responsible.

Soon after, we were summoned to a meeting with the CTO, a meeting that promised to shed light on this abrupt change in dynamics.

As we walked into the meeting with the CTO, we anticipated a familiar atmosphere where brainstorming sessions and collaborative problem-solving were the norm. In the past, under the guidance of the CIO, these meetings had been dynamic exchanges of ideas. The CIO would present their needs, and we would engage in spirited discussions, pitching various solutions until a well-defined plan emerged. It was an approach that had served us well.

However, this meeting with the CTO took an entirely different turn. Instead of the expected brainstorming session, we were met with a stern and unexpected reprimand. The CTO expressed their dissatisfaction with our actions, specifically, our work on projects that had not received their explicit authorization (projects we had been assigned by the CIO). They emphasized that from that point forward, we were to cease all independent work unless directly instructed by them.

What struck us as particularly noteworthy was the CTO's intention to scrutinize our ongoing projects and decide for themselves what work should be undertaken. It was a stark departure from the previous collaborative approach, leaving us with a sense of unease and uncertainty about the direction in which our work was heading. We left the meeting with nothing to work on which was a first for us.

In the wake of the abrupt change in our work dynamics, we found ourselves in a state of limbo. While we continued to dutifully perform our regular maintenance tasks, these were few and far between, there was no new development or enhancements to the existing infrastructure. A month passed in this manner, and we remained in a state of uncertainty.

We anticipated that the CTO would soon reach out to us, either to initiate a productive dialogue or possibly even to inform us that our services were no longer required. However, as the days turned into weeks, we received no communication from the CTO. Our attempts to reach out via email and voice messages went unanswered, leaving us in a puzzling state of silence.

During this period of radio silence, a suspicion began to take root within our team. We wondered if the CTO was aware that we were under contract and being paid regardless of the volume of work we were assigned. It was a revelation that hinted at a potential miscommunication or misunderstanding on their part, and it added yet another layer of complexity to our evolving professional relationship.

As the weeks passed, and with no response from the CTO in sight, the situation grew increasingly uncertain. During this period, changes were afoot within our team. One of our fellow contractors made the decision to embark on a new full-time job opportunity, while the other contractor juggled multiple contracts alongside ours.

A month of uncertainty stretched into two months, our emails to the CTO asking about what we should be working on going mostly unanswered until the CTO finally summoned us for a meeting. The atmosphere was tense as we gathered, unsure of what awaited us. In that meeting, the CTO confronted us with a question that took us by surprise: why had we been billing the company when we hadn't been instructed to work on anything?

To clarify, it is essential to note that the billing process was not within our control; it was handled by a third-party company, mostly automated based on the terms of our contract. The only thing we needed to report was any time over 37 hours. With transparency and professionalism, we explained that our contract stipulated a minimum number of billable hours that the company was obligated to pay, regardless of the volume of work assigned. We emphasized that we had diligently reached out, repeatedly asked for tasks, and attempted to maintain communication with the CTO, all while keeping the CIO informed until instructed otherwise.

Our impression was that the CTO's inquiry was grounded in a lack of understanding of the contract and a desire to cut costs and make a favorable impression by appearing to save money. It was a situation fraught with tension, as the CTO was forced to grapple with the implications of their actions, on their own reputation, as well as the company's perception of their competence. Honestly there wasn't much the CTO could do but move forward, either end the contract or give us work and keep us engaged. Or at least that is what we thought.

Exiting that meeting with the CTO, we carried with us a new set of instructions. We were tasked with tackling minor projects, small-scale endeavors that were either already in progress, initially suggested by the CIO, or recommended by us to the CTO as potential areas of focus. These tasks were relatively modest in scope and could be completed within a week or two.

While these assignments did provide some temporary work, they were far from the substantial and engaging assignments we had grown accustomed to before the CIO/CTO transition. The atmosphere was rife with uncertainty as we wondered about the long-term prospects of our contract and, honestly, how much longer it would last.

For me, the time had come to contemplate my own professional future. The job market was showing early signs of turbulence, and it seemed like a prudent moment to explore the possibility of securing a permanent position with greater stability. The uncertain nature of our role within the company, coupled with the desire for more predictability in my career, pushed me towards the idea of seeking full-time employment.

As I embarked on a new full-time job I was eager to embrace the new challenges it brought. I should point out that my new full-time employer knew that I had a side contract job that would probably be coming to a conclusion in a few months. So, despite the new full time position, the commitment to my contract with the company remained unwavering... for all of us... even if the company wasn't requiring anything of us.

Even as we diversified our professional pursuits, we continued to honor our contract and diligently performed the duties outlined by the CTO (i.e. don't work on ANYTHING unless instructed to). Our sense of professionalism and commitment to our obligations remained steadfast, ensuring that we upheld our end of the agreement.

This period was characterized by a delicate balancing act as we navigated the demands of multiple roles, but it was a testament to our dedication to both our contractual obligations and our individual career aspirations.

Another month elapsed, and within our team, a growing sense of bewilderment prevailed. We found ourselves pondering a simple yet perplexing question: why did the CTO not either assign us meaningful work or conclude the contract altogether? We no longer depended on the contract for our livelihoods, and yet, we were not inclined to voluntarily relinquish a well-paying job that, curiously, required very little of our active involvement.

The unexpected moment of truth arrived as each of us received an individual summons to a meeting, accompanied by both the HR department and the CTO. In those intimate meetings, the message was finally revealed – our contract with the company was slated to conclude in just a few weeks at the end of the month. However, the twist in the tale came in the form of an unexpected offer.

To our surprise, the company extended an invitation for each of us to join their ranks as full-time employees. While the prospect of job security with the company held undeniable allure, the terms of this offer were not without their caveats. The compensation package on the table was a stark contrast to what we had been earning under our contract – a significant reduction in pay. Moreover, it came with the requirement of daily attendance at the office, a change that would not only add considerable commute time but also entail a longer journey than my current full-time job.

The dress code was another notable shift – from business casual to the more formal attire of a jacket and tie. As I weighed the offer, it became evident that the convenience and lifestyle afforded by my existing job, combined with the substantial reduction in income and the shift towards a more rigid dress code, tilted the scales in favor of my current full-time employer.

My immediate but polite decline of the offer left the CTO somewhat surprised and was not what they expected. They reiterated that the contract would be ending and it was a good offer. I countered and said I would consider the offer if they could match my current salary. They could not and we parted ways.

A few days after their full-time employment offer, I received an unexpected phone call that carried a different proposition. The company expressed a desire to extend our contract for another three months, albeit at roughly half the hours of the original contract but at the same pay rate. This revised arrangement came with the assurance that we would continue to receive payment based on the new minimum agreed-upon amount.

While all three of us accepted this offer, the subsequent months unfolded in a peculiar manner. We never received a request to return to the office, nor were any meetings scheduled. Crucially, no significant new work was assigned to us, and the need to train replacements was never raised. It was a period marked by inertia, a stark contrast to the dynamic and productive months we had experienced in the first year of the contract.

As the three-month extension reached its conclusion, the company communicated that our contract had come to an end. They conveyed their decision not to renew it, along with a request for us to return any company equipment we had in our possession.

The culmination of this journey left me with mixed feelings – a sense of closure, tempered by the lingering question of what might have been, had circumstances played out differently.

The enigma surrounding the CTO's decisions remained a perplexing puzzle, one that left us with more questions than answers. Initially, it seemed that their reluctance to utilize our services might have been driven by a desire to cut costs. However, when it became evident that the savings they anticipated were not materializing, nothing changed.

One possibility that crossed our minds was the notion that the CTO might have brought in their own team to replace us. Yet, this theory was never substantiated by any requests for us to train others, or mysterious admin accounts being set up in systems we maintained. Also the fact that the company extended full-time employment offers to each of us seemed contradictory to the idea of replacing us.

Another hypothesis was that the CTO might not have been actively engaged in their role, potentially explaining the dearth of work assignments. The true motivations behind the CTO's actions remained shrouded in uncertainty, leaving us to speculate about the enigmatic circumstances that defined our tenure with the company.

Indeed, the twists and turns of this job presented valuable lessons that extended far beyond the realm of technical expertise. It was an education in the intricacies of human interaction and effective leadership.

First and foremost, it underscored the importance of treating people with respect and consideration. The dynamics between team members and leadership can profoundly impact morale and productivity. The experience taught me the significance of fostering a positive work environment, where individuals feel valued and supported.

Furthermore, it emphasized the necessity of active engagement and communication with one's team while still giving them the space they need to blossom. Staying attuned to the needs and concerns of team members is instrumental in ensuring their happiness and in optimizing their performance. It's a delicate balancing act that requires both empathy and effective management skills. I would even go on to offer one of the contractors I hired a full time position just to have them turn it down due to a salary expectation mismatch which I could empathize with.

TL;DR: As contractors we set our own hours and worked remotely. After a year of successfully working for the CIO my teams new CTO took over and told us not to work on anything without their approval. We got paid regardless of the amount of work assigned to us. We neglected to point this out to the CTO. We went months without being assigned any real work and eventually each team member was working a second job while still honoring the contract and being paid.

Maybe not the prettiest, but a little cleaner than it was when it began. If I had it to do over, I might use a small 9.5" rack if such a thing existed. Originally I had the Netgear and patch cables in a Square-D circuit breaker box but it seemed unnecessary and a bit cramped with no air flow. I then added the Firewalla and moved the fiber over with all the other gear. I have room to expand but I don't think there is anything else I will ever need to add to this location. I have another networking rack more centrally located in the house. There was also tons of coax here but I coiled it up and tucked it away in case it is ever needed again. I originally wired my house with 2 network drops and 2 coax drops to each wall outlet. This spot services 6 drops to my office, two lines to my main networking rack, and the main internet connection.

I am replacing the siding on one wall of my house. I am going all out with it and including a rain screen in the design. It will consist of the sheathing, ice and water shield on sheathing, 2" Polystyrene Board Insulation, furring strips, and finally Hardie Panel siding. There will be a top and bottom bug shield (Cor-A-Vent). The Polystyrene boards will sit on top of a 2"x1.5" board screwed into the sheathing and taped to prevent water intrusion (tape layered under ice and water shield).

This wall is above another roof, meaning there are shingles that butt up against the wall with flashing. My assumption is that the flashing is done between the shingles and the wall sheathing and the 2"x1.5" board floats just a little above the shingles. This allows for the air gap for the rain shield and keeps the water barrier at the roof line along the flashing and wall sheathing (not the 2"x1.5" board or Polystyrene surface).

My confusion though is that the bottom of the 2"x1.5" board will be exposed underneath (I wasn't planning on taping the bottom of the board since the tape might come loose and drop down or hold moisture). This might only be a problem in snowy and icy conditions, in most weather, in my area, it would dry fairly quickly I think. I was planning on a 7/16" gap between the 2"x1.5" board/siding and the shingles (same as the gap for my rain screen), should it be larger, should it be a 2" gap? Somewhere in between?

Here is a side view:

• |#^)
• |#} )
• |#} )
• |%^)
• L--------

| = Sheathing, L = Flashing, # = Insulation Board, % = 2"x1.5" board, } = furring strips, ^ = Bug screen, ) = Hardie board, - = Shingles.