Indecent Memories

Along with the hints of travel sprinkled liberally through the blog, you will have undoubtedly found some measure of work and passion related things. Work these days occupies a share of time and it struggles to forever occupy more. I think doing IT Program Management causes this stress in the force. Questions multiply like,

Does he have enough projects and could he do 1, 2, or 3 more?

Or…

Could we give him this one project which is all caddywompus and perhaps he will straighten it out?

Maybe…

This or that vendor seems cockeyed and fishy. We should let them work with him

Oh, all these possibilities when doing work. I studiously ignore all this figuring when they know what they will ask they will seek me out. The time for volunteering is long past when doing IT projects. Its better to let them flail around a bit and then decided perhaps, just perhaps, they need someone with my skillset. Speaking somewhat immodestly, I have rescued a few projects which were in jeopardy of not being done. Perhaps I have also sentences a few at a previous endeavor where I was a travel advisor and budget analyst first to some kind of purgatory and was told I was driving them to ruin. I soon left that place. IT is a strange mistress at the best of times. If you have not done IT and wondered what it would be like to change careers, rip up those old roots and move to a new field; read on.

So here is the indecent part of things. I left one thing because of money and an ex-wife which seemed to want more success. That one thing was not a job. It was passion and it struck a chord in my soul and made me fell full and worthy. But it was the money and success and not being a nomad and all the guilt that somehow transcribed. I wonder when people make wholesale career changes how often they do it for themselves or whether there is some spouse or family member driving them on or making subtle cutting comments or flailing around emotionally. The doing of prehistoric archeology out in the fields and deserts and mountains was a thing of beauty. Feeling sun, wind, sand and rain blast down while I still stood strong and young and resilient and often a bit hung over was the stuff dreams and legends were made of.

Imagine a career where your day is spent a hole in the ground where the primary rule was to keep the sidewalls straight and you felt the sand and grit and blisters come and go. You thought that at 3pm that day you would move forth into the wonderful and rather strange city of Barstow where the hotel had a pool and a gathering with coolers full of beer happened every day. By evening, a run for pizzas and burgers had happened and we all settled down to another doozy of a night drinking.

Or perhaps the time spent in Needles California watching a company drill a pipeline under the Colorado River. Days spent driving around and listening to jokes about the archeologists and biologists. All done in good nature though and with no malicious intent.

Then there were the passions spent in the deserts and plains. Oh, the suffering!

Then and now. Indecent memories and comrades that have come and gone. Today’s comrades are few and far between. The IT world is a strange ephemeral one of servers and racks and networks and security and virtualization and cloud. Then there were projectile points and thoughts and paintings on the side of caves when RWR and I walked the canyons. Such a wide variance that all combines to a single life.