Crotch rot got us with our pants down. It is 1992 and I'm Associate
Director of Academic Computing. An acne-encrusted freshman script-kiddie
(handle: Crotch Rot) just got root on Northwestern University's primary
mail machine. Whose mail is he reading? Everyone's. The Deans are not
happy: "Michael, fix this now!" That was my introduction to Internet
security.
It's six years later. Network Associate's Channel Program Launch is not
going well. I'm there because I'm building a security and
Internet-services practice for RMS in Chicago. Eighty or so of us are in a
room for firewall certification training, but the presenter is clueless and
people are threatening to riot. The VP of Channel Sales stands up, "We'll
make it right," he promises. Casually, I offer my assistance to the
product manager. He accepts. After lunch, I'm on stage giving the
training (the presenter and his manager having suddenly left the company
just before dessert). A couple of months later I'm recruited by Network
Associates to build technical relationships with security channel partners
and manage their security certification program.
Michael's law: The sophistication of a town is inversely proportional to
the number of auto parts stores on its outskirts. Before I got my MBA from
the Kellogg School at Northwestern-and stayed on after graduation to lead
the school from punch cards to networks-I was a Top-40 bandleader. Despite
a near total lack of talent as a bass player, I kept us working and met the
payroll-my kind of music. It was an interesting life-I got stuffed into an
ice machine once-but that's a different story. As it turns out, managing
musicians was good training for managing technical folks; working with
either is sort of like herding cats. By the way, the computing services my
team provided for Kellogg helped make it Business Week's #1 school.
Interestingly enough, #1 is also the score my international team of
security engineers-who I recruited, trained and had in the field in less
than six weeks-received on an independent customer satisfaction survey
commissioned by TruSecure. TruSecure is a managed security services
company where I was hired as an SE and then promoted to Director, Field
Security Operations. The COO was overheard to tell my boss that his task
was to get people "half as good as mine" for the rest of his teams. What
my boss told the COO was not recorded.
Let's talk.
{
| Christopher Michael
| [EMAIL PROTECTED]
| "Keep in mind, your nearest exit may be behind you."
}
