My own personal web monitoring system, Alan Levine, sent me this tweet Friday:
@jimgroom what the ~ happened to https://t.co/sKXA0liG9y ?
— Alan has x-ed to @[email protected] (@cogdog) September 8, 2016
Turns out ds106.club was down, and I’m pretty sure a quick reboot would have cured it. But it actually was pointing to a deeper issue I had been avoiding for some time now: my neglected Amazon Web Services (AWS) instances. I had (notice the past tense) two instances running on AWS for a couple of years now. Back in 2014 I spun up a Ghost blog on AWS (more on that in my next post) and in 2015, inspired by Tim Owen’s demo at the Indie Web Camp in Cambridge, I used it to host ds106.club—an OG Apache server for ~tilde spaces. That space has 32 accounts on it (maybe 25 of those actually have anything on them) for folks that want to re-live the 90s web publishing experience. I do think it will make for an interesting time machine experience for a project I hope to be working on this year (namely rebuilding a working 1990s computer lab/living room) so I want to keep the server running. Even more so, when I start a project like this, no matter how silly, and folks invest their time and energy, I feel it’s my obligation to be a good steward of their work.
Anyway, the issue I was having with my AWS instance is my server key pairs (encrypted login keys) were not working any more. The .pem file was borking and I couldn’t access the server beyond rebooting the instance. This is not the first time the AWS key pair setup has bit me in the ass, and as much as I love the idea that AWS’s EC2 represents in terms of virtual server management, the interface and usability is horrendous. As Tim noted, “It’s a perfect example of an interface designed for server admins by server admins.” There’s nothing intuitive about managing an AWS instance, and this was never made more apparent than when I went through the process of try to re-issue a new key pair. I had to detach the storage volume from the existing instance, then re-attach it to a temporary instance, then ssh in to mount the drive, then issue a new key pair (which didn’t work for me because of permissions issues) then detach drive and finally remount it on the old instance. Unnecessarily complicated.
At this point I knew I had to abandon AWS EC2 instances all together, so I decided to just download the home directory from the temporary instance with everyone’s files and rebuild it on Digital Ocean, and that’s what I did. Digital Ocean’s user experience and interface is akin to working in WordPress, whereas AWS is Drupal—to rekindle an old analogy. I installed a $5 month instance with Ubuntu 16.04.1 x64. It was awesome not having to work through the long list of pre-setup I went through the first time with AWS (listed here). The server booted in seconds and I could get right to updating packages, creating users, and installing Apache. As a quick note, when my access key failed on Digital Ocean I could easily get a root password for my server (that has made all the difference in the world for me!).
Whereas on AWS I was using an Amazon Linux AMI, on Digital Ocean I tried the latest available release of Ubuntu. Given this, there were a few things I had to work through. Installing Git worked cleanly with the tutorial for Ubuntu 14.04, so no problems there. The instructions for installing Apache and editing the httpd.conf file in the original tutorial where not applicable. As this resource notes:
httpd.conf: historically the main Apache2 configuration file, named after the httpd daemon. Now the file does not exist. In older versions of Ubuntu the file might be present, but empty, as all configuration options have been moved to the below referenced directories.
So I installed Apache2:
sudo apt install apache2
And then used this guide to enable userdir, which is what allows for the tilde spaces. I have to look into enabling PHP, but I’ll wait to see if John Johnston needs it 🙂 This guide worked and the server was setup, and I added some other goodies like Finger, Lynx, Tree, Irssi, Mutt, and Tmux.
The last step was copying all the directories from the old AWS server into the home directory of the new server and re-creating users, re-doing permissions, and distributing the new credentials and IP address. I still have to send details to a bunch of folks. But luckily, other than Alan, no one has been beating down my door. This is not surprising, but Alan and I have a lot in common in this regard. We take the management of communal web spaces seriously. No question it takes a whole lot of gardening to ensure these spaces stay around for a while, but I like that responsibility a lot—it motivates me during the times when I know digging into AWS key pairs is going to mean a long night of rebuilding. Especially when those long nights are when I tend to learn the most. Helping to garden the communal web that is ds106 for almost 6 years has been the most generative process I have ever been a part of, and when something gives you that much you have to keep giving back.








The Bava Diner or, Comments on Post Independence
One of the interesting side effects of regularly blogging on the bava for almost 11 years is you get a longer view of the things you’ve written. I’ve posted a lot about technology, education, WordPress, domains, etc., over the years, but if analytics don’t lie, most of that stuff has been dormant for a long while. I really can’t blame folks for that, I wouldn’t revisit it either. But there are a number of posts I’ve written as many as 10 years ago that have seen uneven, but ongoing, traffic since they were published—perhaps not surprisingly none of them have anything to do with edtech. In fact, the posts that get re-visited have had very little to do with what I wrote, but have become a site for often personal remembrances and conversation.
Let me give you a couple examples. Eight years ago I wrote a one-off post about a Hank Williams performance at Sunset Park, PA. It was a sound file I got from this post on the now quiet WFMU blog [moment of silence]. I listened, loved it, then blogged it. Nothing profound to say about Williams other than how personable and intimate the Sunset Park venue most have been. But, the 35 comments on that post tell stories of time gone by and memories of what was. It starts slow with me getting a hot linking lecture for the audio file, but soon enough the Sunset Park fans come a knocking:
And…
And…
What’s interesting is that the thread becomes about childhood memories of Sunset Park that often involve being dragged their by parents and grandparents. No particular interest in any one star, though a number get mentioned, but more of a focus on the place, which makes sense given that was probably what they were looking for when they found this post. But there is also this idea, as you can see in the last comment above, of finding the old farm/park. To which someone replies almost 3 years later with specific directions followed by the heartbreaking line of the thread for me:
But it doesn’t end there, folks talk about their dad playing fiddle there, their uncle playing drums, their parents dragging them as rebellious teenagers, their siblings getting autographs, and on and on. It’s a nice stroll down other people’s memory lane:
The whole all caps “INDIAN DOWN BY THE WATER FOUNDATION” question had me fascinated, and I was hoping someone would respond, but no luck. Soon after this comment the grandson of the folks who ran Sunset Park joined the thread:
Four years later the owner of the Sunset Park Ice Cream Parlor responds:
And so on, for near on 8 years there have been a string of comments sharing quite personal (albeit short) remembrances of another time and place right here on the bava. This is a side of the bava I rarely talk about, but for me preserving these conversations and making sure these remembrances are discoverable is also part of what I consider my responsibility as a blogger. And, truth be told, I love this part of it. I think the comments above (and the ones to come) may have proved some of the most meaningful for me because they’re accidents of the searchable web that just happened to land on this little spot for a moment. Kinda like what happened when the highway system was built, and up cropped diners in the middle of nowhere America. Over time they become small, rundown, sun-baked spots (like the bava) that serve up a decent meal at a fair price. I imagine this variety of posts that take on their own life as kinda like Twilight Zone diners on the internet, and I’m the host that makes sure they are well taken care during their short stay, all the while listening to the tales of strangers on their way to or from somewhere else.
All that said, I am probably writing this post because Gene Wilder died the other day, may he rest in peace. Strange segue way I know, but it will make sense in a second. Back in 2010 I wrote a post about the character actor Erland Van Lidth, who like John Cazale died way too early. And that’s how the post went, talking about the films he was in which were defining for me as a kid, namely as Terror in The Wanderers and Grossberger in Stir Crazy (and there’s the Gene Wilder tie-in). I have written a bunch of longing posts about the cultural figures of my childhood on this blog, but for some reason this one became a thread for folks to share their Erland Van Lidth’s memories:
And…
Classmates from his years at MIT offered fine remembrances of Erland, and I learned he was not only an actor, but also an MIT alum, a talented Soprano, an Olympic-caliber heavy weight wrestler, and a Computer Science instructor at Manhattan Community College. Wild, but soon after I am in for another surprise:
And just last year Erland’s brother chimed in to say thanks and share anecdotes about his stumbling into acting. So awesome. And then this gem of an exchange:
So, Erland Van Lidth inspired Frank Miller’s villain Kingpin in the 1980s Daredevil comics? How awesome is that? And this was news to Erland’s brother Philine as well.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while now, and these are just two of the 9 or 10 posts on the bava that have taken on a life of their own in the comments. Random people have been treating these posts like diners in the middle of nowhere web bava to share their stories, what’s more these comments have almost all been genial and genuine, which is reaffirming for me. And, unlike Sunset Park, this blog will never become an old folks home and a strip mall!