The flaw in that argument is exposed by considering what happens in the real world, in the field, if a DSS220 craps out during a show. Sure, in theory, you pull the NFG PSU out, then slide the replacement in, reboot the bugger, and you're back up. But the practice goes something like:
It's a busy Saturday night in your suburban 15-plex. You have the legal bare minimum front-of-house staffing in place. Eventually, a customer walks out of an auditorium, fights her way to the front of the concessions line, and tells the guy behind the counter that the screen has gone dark and the sound has stopped in Spiderman vs. Hello Kitty. Which of the three screens playing that movie would this be, he replies. Buggered if I know, says the customer; I just went where I was told.
About 5-6 minutes later, the duty manager establishes which screen is down, and runs up to the booth. There is a green tail light on the projector and everything in the rack looks OK, but it takes another 2-3 minutes to figure out that there are no lights or fan noise on the server. So the server is completely dead, but why?
If it were you or I, no power getting to the server's motherboard would be the first thing we'd suspect. It would take us under a minute from there to zero in on the power supply module, and then swap in the spare. But even then, around 15 minutes has gone by - with turnaround times, likely long enough to give us no choice but to cancel the show and issue refunds.
But this isn't you or I ... it's a 20-something valley girl who, 20 minutes previously, was on her break reading about which of her friends is dating which other on Facebook, before that customer came out and all hell broke loose. Mention "power supply unit" to her, and she'll think you're talking about the latest energy drink being promoted on Gwyneth Paltrow's website (at $462 for a 16oz bottle, in case you were wondering). No matter how quick the potential fix, she's going to issue those refunds and call a tech.
There were 300 customers in the house that went down, and they paid $15 each. She had to give out $4,500 in refunds.
Alternative scenario: there are double redundant PSUs in those DSS220s. One morning, the opening manager hears a bleeping sound coming from one of the projector pedestals during the opening rounds (the primary unit had failed the previous evening). She calls the tech, who moves the next scheduled PM visit up by a few days, and swaps out the dead module. Having two of those $120 modules in the server saved the theater from having to hand out thousands in refunds.
It's a busy Saturday night in your suburban 15-plex. You have the legal bare minimum front-of-house staffing in place. Eventually, a customer walks out of an auditorium, fights her way to the front of the concessions line, and tells the guy behind the counter that the screen has gone dark and the sound has stopped in Spiderman vs. Hello Kitty. Which of the three screens playing that movie would this be, he replies. Buggered if I know, says the customer; I just went where I was told.
About 5-6 minutes later, the duty manager establishes which screen is down, and runs up to the booth. There is a green tail light on the projector and everything in the rack looks OK, but it takes another 2-3 minutes to figure out that there are no lights or fan noise on the server. So the server is completely dead, but why?
If it were you or I, no power getting to the server's motherboard would be the first thing we'd suspect. It would take us under a minute from there to zero in on the power supply module, and then swap in the spare. But even then, around 15 minutes has gone by - with turnaround times, likely long enough to give us no choice but to cancel the show and issue refunds.
But this isn't you or I ... it's a 20-something valley girl who, 20 minutes previously, was on her break reading about which of her friends is dating which other on Facebook, before that customer came out and all hell broke loose. Mention "power supply unit" to her, and she'll think you're talking about the latest energy drink being promoted on Gwyneth Paltrow's website (at $462 for a 16oz bottle, in case you were wondering). No matter how quick the potential fix, she's going to issue those refunds and call a tech.
There were 300 customers in the house that went down, and they paid $15 each. She had to give out $4,500 in refunds.
Alternative scenario: there are double redundant PSUs in those DSS220s. One morning, the opening manager hears a bleeping sound coming from one of the projector pedestals during the opening rounds (the primary unit had failed the previous evening). She calls the tech, who moves the next scheduled PM visit up by a few days, and swaps out the dead module. Having two of those $120 modules in the server saved the theater from having to hand out thousands in refunds.
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