$ cat post/tail-minus-f-forever-/-i-traced-it-to-the-library-/-the-container-exited.md

tail minus f forever / I traced it to the library / the container exited


Title: The MySQL Meltdown: A Tale of Midnight Debugging


May 15, 2006. Just another Tuesday in the life of a sysadmin—except for that tiny little “tiny little” problem I was about to dive into.

You know how it goes, right? Everything is humming along smoothly until you hit the point where everything suddenly stops. That night, we were staring down a MySQL database that had gone from 100% read-only to just plain offline. The server wasn’t throwing any errors; in fact, it was eerily silent—too quiet for its own good.

Our application team was panicking. They needed the data, and fast. It’s not like we could just spin up a new instance or move to another database overnight. This was a critical system that powered our core functionality. We had only one choice: get into the guts of MySQL and figure out what was going on.

I rolled up my sleeves and started with the basics—checking logs, examining error messages, running SHOW PROCESSLIST to see if any queries were hanging. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance. But something didn’t feel right. I knew this MySQL setup like the back of my hand; I had installed it myself a few years ago. So I decided to dig deeper.

I dug into the server’s system monitoring tools, and that’s when things started to get interesting. CPU usage was low, memory usage was normal, but disk I/O was through the roof. Huh? MySQL should be mostly a read-heavy operation, so why was it hammering our storage so much?

With a sinking feeling, I realized it might be time to take a look at the filesystem itself. After all, that’s where your data lives in this world of relational databases. I fired up iostat and watched as my server choked on disk access for MySQL. It was painfully slow, but there was no denying it.

That’s when I had an epiphany: the filesystem wasn’t being hammered by the database itself; it was being hammered by some rogue process running in the background. Time to start digging through the logs again, this time focusing on any suspicious activity around MySQL startup or shutdown.

And then it hit me—cron. I checked the crontab entries for any cron jobs that might have been scheduled to run during database restarts. Sure enough, there was one: a nightly backup job that had gone haywire. It turned out someone had accidentally configured an infinite loop in their backup script, causing the entire backup process to spin its wheels and fill up our /tmp partition.

With the problem identified, it was time to act fast. I temporarily disabled the problematic cron job, cleared some space on the filesystem, and manually restarted MySQL. It was a mess, but we had the data back online in no time.

Reflecting on this night, I realized how critical good logging can be. If that backup script had been more robust or if we had better monitoring tools in place, we might have caught this issue sooner. But hey, it’s 2006, and even with all our tools, Murphy’s Law still rules.

This experience taught me a valuable lesson: no matter how much you think you know about your systems, there’s always something new to learn. And when the worst happens, debugging skills become the difference between a night of sleep or a night spent in front of your console, trying to keep things running smoothly.

In today’s world, where open-source stacks and DevOps practices are becoming the norm, these kinds of incidents are still all too common. But it’s those moments that push us to be better engineers, better system managers, and better problem solvers.

Until next time—happy debugging!


This blog post is a reflection on a real-life situation I encountered as a sysadmin back in 2006. The MySQL meltdown was a critical incident, but it taught me valuable lessons about logging, monitoring, and the importance of understanding every part of your system, even when you think you know everything.