An Old Fart Pauses To Observe The New Year

When I turned 40, I was working for a Vancouver based DotCom. I was the oldest person in the company. Many people were in their twenties, including some of the Vice Presidents. Still, we were doing business with Fortune 500 companies, and our work was cutting edge.

One of my colleagues asked me how old I was, and would not believe me when I told him that I was forty. It was not that I looked too young to be forty, or that I dressed and acted young. As he said, “How can that be? You know all the new stuff!” Later in the year, I was freelancing, and I was recommended to a client by a friend. When I showed up, my new client was surprised at my age. He said, “Sean spoke so highly of you, I was expecting a fresh faced boy genius.”

This did not bother me. I expected that the young developers would be singing a different tune when they turned forty. Now, I am about to turn forty-six, and I have been diagnosed with a heart condition. Middle age has definitely descended on me. I cannot deny it, but I have the following reflections.

When I was in my twenties, I was desperate to learn new things. I imagined that there was a day, just over the horizon, when I would know enough to be taken seriously. I carried computer books with me wherever I went. I had a passion, and a vision of what computers would do for us in the future.

In my thirties, I was desperate to do something with what I had learned. Of course, I was still learning. I had to learn about relational databases, object oriented programming, and the web. I had to learn about object modeling, and I had learn a host of new programming languages. Even the languages I knew were changing. Every year, I had to embrace new concepts, and learn to use new tools. Still, I imagined that there was a day, just over the horizon, when I would know enough to be considered truly knowledgeable.

Sometimes, I lamented the fact that in days-gone-by, a man my age would have completed his apprenticeship. He would know his trade in full, and he would be applying his knowledge rather than learning all over again. He would be refining and perfecting his skill, but he would not be starting at square one each and every year. Such is the curse of living in interesting times. Still, I was learning, and I was having fun.

At all times, before I was 40, I kept my eyes on my elders and betters. I found people to learn from and admire. I imagined a day in the future when I would achieve the competence I desired. Of course, others found me increasingly competent, but I always had the sense that I was falling behind. I felt that change was nipping at my heals the whole time. And, it was!

As I reflect on turning 46, I make note of the fact that I am now keeping my eyes on younger and better people. There is nothing wrong with that. Unbridled enthusiasm, rebellious curiosity, imagination and consuming passion are characteristics of youth. Some people lose these characteristics as they age. There is nothing wrong with that. This less enthusiastic stage can represent a consolidation of wisdom rather than a waning of learning.

But, I have to note that, for me, the characteristics of youth are characteristics of my personality rather than characteristics of my current stage of life. The new thing always grabs my attention. I delight when an old way of thinking dies away. I take pleasure when stuffiness, rigidity and arrogance are beaten back by spontaneity, creativity and vision.

Which brings me to observe how the Web is changing. It used to be about platforms, programming languages and technologies. Just five years ago, every hotshot I met was a Java programmer. Now the Web itself is taking off in new directions, and I like it – a lot. Now, there is Ruby On Rails, Turbogears, Django, Python, AJAX and Ruby. Previous technologies, which were once considered the anwser to everything, are being replaced and displaced by alternatives. What was sufficient becomes insufficient.

In the past year and a bit, I have discovered blogging, social bookmarking, microformats and more. I also find myself listening to classic novels on my MP3 player as I walk, or reading them on my laptop. And, of course, I have discovered the world of podcasting. I have also started to use Open Source software almost exclusively, except for work I have to do to earn my living in this slow-moving government town.

I strikes me that I will never arrive at my imagined destination. I will never know enough, or be able to do enough. If anything, time has taught me how much there is to learn and how much there always will be to explore. One of the pitfalls of youth is the belief that one knows all there is to know, or that one can know it all eventually. Even as I was learning, I had a sense that the horizon was the end of the world, that I could get there by my own effort and stand at the edge of things.

Now that I am older, now that another year prepares to turn, I must conclude that beyond every horizon there is another horizon. If the world seemed big to me when I was younger, it seems bigger to me now. It strikes me that the day may come when I stop embracing every new technological thing. The day may come when I have had enough. I do not expect that I will be tired or spent, but I may be ready for something new.

When they I move on to other things comes, even as I push off for another shore, I am sure there will be a group of well wishers on the beach lamenting to themselves and to each other, saying, “Another one bites the dust.” Even the imaginativeness of youth cannot conceive how much more there is to be dream than has already been imagined. Obviously, Shakespeare said it better: “There are stranger things in this world than in all your philosophies, Horatio.”

I will permit myself just once to sound like an old fart. The young often believe that the world is wonderful for them and less so for their elders. If only they knew.