Jul 272011
 

Center Parcs. A holiday park in Whinfell Forest, near Carlisle. Consistent of lodge-based accommodation and activity centres, it’s an overwhelmingly child-focussed place. Activities include nature walks, cookery classes (for under-8s), climbing, horse riding, and many others. The place is a family haven where the children can be exercised & entertained, and then the adults can collapse in comfortable accommodation in the evening. There are, of course, a few adult-relevant activities, but it’s mainly all about the children.

It’s also not cheap. The lodge prices for a week during school holidays start at around £500 for a small one on the perimeter, and increase proportionately as you go closer to the centre and take bigger properties. Our luxury 3-bedroom lodge (sleeps 6) close to the village centre cost £2,000 for the first week of the school summer holidays.

On top of the lodge cost are the activities. Everything except swimming is a cost-option. A moderate itinerary for the week for a family of 5 came to around £500. Suddenly this is starting to look like an expensive holiday, especially as we haven’t factored in any food or drink costs.

A trip to a nearby supermarket yielded a bill of around £200, but it could have been around £130 had we bought more frugally. Additional eating & drinking on an ad-hoc basis (including two trips to the Indian restaurant) came to another £500.

So, child-focussed and expensive. With me so far? The child-friendliness is important when children outnumber adults in the party. The theory goes that if you keep the monsters happy, then the adults can relax. It holds true in part, but the inescapable fact is that children will be children (i.e. demanding, bad-tempered and generally loud & annoying), and that maintaining this level of engagement with the children saps parental energy levels like nothing else. I was falling asleep on the sofa at 9.30 most nights.

The cost aspect is something we just have to deal with. Yes, it’s expensive, but everything’s clean, well-organised, well-staffed and equipment provided for use during the activities is both plentiful and of good quality. The staff are exceptionally pleasant, polite and helpful. And to provide this sort of service costs serious money.

All of this is pretty much in line with expectation. But the summary is that while the children are having a great time, the parents are being physically, emotionally and financially drained. It’s no holiday at all for the parents. Every minute of every day there is something either to be done, or gone to, or looked forward to. As the parents recover from the previous activity the children ask what’s next. It’s unrelenting.

At what point then do the Center Parcs management think it’s acceptable, justified or appropriate to build a fucking toy shop on site? And place it next to the only free activity on the campus, the swimming pool?

Every time the parents take children to swim, they have to walk past the toy shop. It’s a hundred square metres of despair, and it’s completely unnecessary.

It’s as if the management are saying to parents “we’ve got all your money, now your kids are going to ask for more stuff. Mwah ha ha ha ha”.

And it’s not even as if the placement of the toy shop is misery for the parents alone. It activates the avarice that every child has, sparking off legion “can I have” questions. Parents, appalled by the unfettered desires, must decline their requests, which then makes the child sad. This sparks arguments, because the child wants the thing and the parents have already paid quite enough for this week thank you very much. Amongst the park of many joys, lies a hundred square metres of disappointment.

The expectation that parents – having already shelled out handsomely for the holiday – will then dole out yet more cash for a toy that is unneeded and which will probably be unloved within the hour is despicable. It’s an unashamed attempt to grab yet more cash from the parents who are already sacrificing their all at the altar of their children’s happiness. It’s a cynical final nail in the coffin of parental relaxation.

I despise it.

Nov 172010
 

Although Sun Microsystems was a victim of its own chronic mismanagement, I think that few people must have looked upon its takeover by Oracle as anything other than a disaster for everything Sun had achieved in its 28-year history.

Company mergers are often referred to in the iconoclastic online journals as “Borging”, referring to the enemy of the Star Trek: The Next Generation. For the 1 of you reading this who is not familiar with the Borg, they take over (“assimilate”) other races, making them part of the collective, and in the process eliminating anything that had previously differentiated the Borged race. Unfortunately, in the case of Oracle’s takeover of Sun, the analogy appears utterly accurate.

Almost certainly a contributing factor in their relative corporate success levels, Sun had perpetrated, or adopted, a number of technologies for the benefit of the community. Java is one, MySQL another. Whereas, on the other side of the takeover fence, Oracle has always been all about the money.

To say that the open-source MySQL project has completely revolutionised the internet would not be mere hyperbole.

Millions of web sites, from the mighty Facebook to my own paltry corner, run on MySQL servers, and therein lies the very attraction of the product. The fact is that MySQL is almost limitlessly scalable. From a single database mouldering away on a 10-year-old PC in a garage up to the powerhouse for a multinational website with 500 million users, MySQL can grow with your organisation. In the process, it passes through the comfort zones of other database products, ones which may be more familiar and/or comfortable for corporate users. Microsoft’s SQL server is pretty well unbeatable for driving a 2,000-user corporate application, and Oracle’s own products specialise in huge corporate data warehouses.

Part of this specialisation comes from the native capability of the products. Part of it comes from the platforms on which the products will run. Part of it comes from the complexity of architecting a database solution that works within the cost constraints. And part of it from the purchase cost of the product itself.
And this is where Oracle’s money-grabbing ways threaten the database ecosystem.

Microsoft’s SQL Server is a good midrange tool. It runs on Windows servers, on Intel and AMD hardware, and supports clustering for high availability. It is a strong product for taking an organisation from the realisation they need a database through to running significant-sized corporate applications. But it can be complex to buy, and if you get the buying choices wrong, you’re in for a load of cost that you don’t need.

To offset some of this, Microsoft offers SQL Express, which is free, but limited. It’s a helping hand onto the SQL Server ladder.

Oracle’s database product set has a number of advantages over SQL Server in that it will run on almost anything, and its track record in massive data warehouses is more compelling than that of SQL Server. It is, however, both complex and expensive to buy. Each component is costly, and there are lots of them.

Where does Sun come into this? Well, Sun’s nurturing of the open source MySQL platform had given MySQL corporate credibility. It had become possible to obtain the open source product, and then to purchase support for it at a reasonable price. The sort of price that a corporate customer without much of a budget could afford. With a ready supply of self-taught LAMP (Linux, Apache, MySQL, PHP) developers out there in internet-land, corporates could get up and running for a modest investment and then grow their capability in line with their requirements. Are growing MySQL implementations a significant threat to new Oracle installations? Or are they an opportunity for Oracle to sell in right-sized support solutions that give customers a feeling of value for money?

When Oracle borged Sun, the optimists thought that MySQL could become Oracle’s SQL Express: the free offering to get customers onto the ladder (or “tied in” if you’re not feeling charitable!).

The optimists were wrong though. Oracle remains all about the money coming in.

Oracle has canned low-cost support options, and pulled components such as Enterprise Monitor from the low-end commercial editions of the product. Add-on technologies, such as MySQL Enterprise Backup will not be open-sourced, and have to be purchased.

It seems that Oracle views MySQL implementations as a threat to sales of its enterprise-level database products, and does not value SME revenue streams. It would appear that Oracle is happier to drive customers to Microsoft’s waiting arms than to interact with those customers with anything other than its flagship product.

It’s an approach that is remarkably short-sighted. By applying pressure to the community Oracle is causing key personnel to depart and form new alliances. Already a new start-up exists – SkySQL – that has many of the original guiding lights from the MySQL project. Some may argue that this is part of a natural process, that Oracle would be commercially naïve to retain a non-profit organisation under its wing that actively causes customers to not buy its commercial product.

But with Oracle running down Java, commercially squeezing the open source database, and failing to turn around the server hardware business, the question that remains unanswered is that of why Oracle took over Sun in the first place.

Was it ego inflation through corporate carrion consumption for Larry Ellison?