Simple Pleasures Are the Best

Years ago, when my dad was in his seventies, I tried to teach him how to use a computer.  He was overwhelmed by what was for him a serious challenge.  This was long-enough ago that there were still dedicated "word processors," units which looked like a computer keyboard and monitor, but which had only one function — to create documents.  Learning how to use them was far easier than learning to use a computer and all it's distracting features, even in those days when they operated in a relatively limited field of effort.

My father tried, but a word processor was not for him.

I realized that the only technology my father might appreciate, even master, would be the closest technology to the manual typewriter he'd been using his entire adult life, a machine which would mimic his old Royal's features.  I was happy to show him how to work an electric typewriter, and he took to it like a fish to water.

I believe that one should consider before racing to adopt the latest technology, particularly if you are efficient using the technology you're used to using.  You should account for the expense, time to adjust, retrain, and even the loss of some aspect of your current process that you might come to wish you had retained, for whatever reason.

I posted about whether or not to agree to software updates years ago.

Be at ease with your own expert notion of what's comfortable for you.

Always use the simplest effective technology.

The Best Prescription

It may be better for your own mental health to ascribe human qualities to your computer’s performance.  For example, saying, “My computer’s in a funk today, not getting much done,” suggests that you should just be patient, perhaps try tomorrow when the machine’s feeling better.  While on the other hand, treating your computer’s performance as a technical issue—which of course it is—may have you spend the rest of your day trying to solve a problem which might just go away on its own after the computer has had a good night’s sleep—technically, a reboot.

Nothing Is a Closed System

I find the intentions of "open systems" compared to "closed systems" fascinating.  Proprietary Apple is airtight compared to Windows which is locked-down compared to free-ranging Linux and others.  I was recently struck by an article by acting coach Anthony Meindl.  It made me think of computer code from a fresh angle:

If you look at your life, the tremendous amount of effort you had to exert to overcome obstacles and get to where you are today speaks of the possibility of your spirit. But it also shows that nothing is a closed system. Nothing. To think otherwise is to limit something that is limitless. That is—you.

Next time we run up against the limits of proprietary code, we might appreciate our strengths, and leverage our creativity to triumph over closed-mindedness.  Not encouraging hacking here, just resourcefulness.

Six Months to Live

I recently completed a short stint as an IT Technical Recruiter—short, because I didn't make any placements, and particularly because the owner of the recruiting firm I associated myself with and I mutually agreed I wasn't a "good fit."

My most valuable take-away from this experience is the fact that, if you’re an IT pro who finds him-or-herself unemployed for any reason, after six months your career is simply no longer viable.

I've been out of an IT job for far longer than six months. I had no idea my professional life was over. When I learned that it was, I felt how I imagine a zombie must feel when he first notices his accustomed lifestyle evading him.

I have a major IT home project I’d like to finish before I die—as in real death—which involves making one large searchable database out of my two enormous and very distinct existing ones. Perhaps only so my descendents can reconstruct some of the essence of me after I’m gone. This project will ensure me a life in IT while my ruined career remains among the walking dead.

And ensures my digital existence when my real existence ceases to… exist.

Project Competition

I see too many projects in competition for the same business real estate.

If you want to get something done, and it will take coordinated teamwork and many steps to complete, making a project out of it is defensible, even smart. But too often, in the name of better business, project-making becomes a distraction from actually doing business.

If you have a project in mind that's similar to one already in progress, you should consider whether it's really worth it to scrap the original effort for the sake of some new approach. It's probably better to finish what you started, and follow-up with an intelligent evaluation period. It's even a worse course to start the new approach concurrently with the old, either denying that their end goals are the same, or squandering resources in the name of "healthy competition."

I should cite examples, but the best of which I'm aware I'm not at liberty to talk about. I appeal to your common sense—cite your own examples.