Can You Hear Me Now

Do not grow old, no matter how long you live. Never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.

Albert Einstein

It’s time for a change. After nearly 50 years of writing software, giving demos, presenting at technical conferences, hundreds of thousands of frequent flier miles, and trying to stay awake during long and boring meetings, I have decided to retire from corporate life at the end of May, 2024.

This decision has been long in the making. Although I didn’t make any big announcement at the time, last July I dropped down to 16 hours a week. While it turned out that it was more like getting paid for 16 hours after working quite a few more, it was still a big change. I learned to say “no” more often and started to add non-job routines that took me away from work and towards a life beyond a paycheck.

I had my first encounter with computers way back in 1975 when my high school offered its very first programming class. We learned the BASIC language from a teacher who had only just learned it himself and it didn’t take long for the students to start teaching the class. We typed our programs on paper tape and using an acoustic coupler 110 baud modem, loaded them into a Hewlett-Packard computer I never saw. Even though by today’s standards we were living in the dark ages, I was immediately hooked and finally knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.

After high school came a bachelors of science degree in computer science from Arizona State University, a 26-year job at Northern Telecom/Nortel Networks/Nortel, 11 years working for an Avaya business partners, and finally, four years at Avaya. I may have had only three business telephone numbers during all that time, but I wore many different hats. Every role had its highs and lows and there is little that I did that didn’t teach me something important.

It would be impossible to name all the exceptional moments, milestones, accomplishments, etc., but here are a few:

• Being the author/co-author of six United States patents — 6,870,848, 7,403,607, 7,463,619, 8,355,393, 9,294,518, and 9,001,818
• Flying to destinations all around the world (United States, Canada, England, Ireland, France, Australia, China)
• Working with some truly amazing people
• Writing articles for my personal blog and NoJitter that still receive hundreds of views every day
• Standing in front of audiences of hundreds of people as I opined on my latest technical interest
• Professionally writing code in nine different languages — Intel 8085 Assembler, PLM, C, C++, BNR Pascal, Java, Node.js, Python, and JavaScript

But that was then and this is now. As important as all of the above was and is to me, it’s time to try on new hats. Will I continue to write software? Maybe. Will I continue writing technical articles for Tao, Zen, and Tomorrow? I expect to. Will I be asked to present at conferences and user’s groups? It’s hard to know if people will still find me relevant.

What I do know is that I will be doing things that give back to the world. For the past several months I have been doing volunteer cooking. I’ve joined three men’s groups in an effort to widen my community. I am in conversations with a friend about giving cybersecurity talks at senior centers. Another friend has reached out to me about starting a podcast about life beyond a corporate paycheck.

There is no end to the possibilities.

Life is full of surprises and I’ve been around long enough to know that best laid plans are easily disrupted. I am leaving room for disruption, chaos, and light bulb moments. Not knowing what the future holds for me is exhilarating. I am looking forward to learning things I had no idea were learnable. I may be in my waning years, but I’m not ready to be put out to pasture just yet.

I hope that people are willing to continue following my adventures as I explore new opportunities, develop new interests, and refine old ones. This new creation, Can You Hear Me Now, is my first dip of the toe into unknown waters. I want an avenue to express myself that isn’t tied to any particular subject.

I don’t know what I can promise you, but that’s half the excitement. Leaving room for awe of the unknown is what keeps me alive and thriving.

Thank you for being a part of my world.