The Irvania Blog

We were heroes of our generation, in a way. We were the PC experts when PCs were new. We were the network administrators, the desktop support technicians, the Information Technology gurus of the 1980s and 1990s.

We were the ones who made keyboard cheat sheets for you so you could use those early, user-hostile word processors. We were the ones who found your homework files when you lost them in the C:\DOS directory. We were the ones who tweaked and tuned your expanded and extended memory so you could use your mouse and your sound card at the same time. We were the ones who understood the subnet masks and had your IP address memorized. We were the ones who set up the network so that you could play DOOM against the guy down the hall. The latest versions of Windows and the Mac OS and even Linux are what they are today because we worked the kinks out of their forefathers in the 80s and 90s.

We laughed at the heroes of the previous generation, the mainframe experts, for we believed they were dinosaurs doomed to extinction in short order. They believed that DOS and Windows were only fads that would soon fade away, and that only secretaries and schoolchildren would use them. They called our PCs toys that would never be powerful enough to replace their room-sized behemoths. They believed that COBOL would once again be the language of the land.

Now, we too are dinosaurs. We became expensive, for we were highly paid. We became unnecessary when our employers began to believe that our jobs could be done more cheaply overseas. Then came the layoffs, and thousands of us were let go. Now some of those jobs are back, but at a much lower pay grade than we had enjoyed, back when we were heroes.

And so we dinosaurs, we who were once heroes, now search and wait and dream. We search for the Safe Spot, the Comfortable Place where we can bide our time. We wait for our retirement along with our older brethren, those heroes of the previous generation. We dream of those days, long ago, when we were heroes, when we configured the network to run DOOM.

Okay, so I’m old. I get it.

This time next year I’ll be 50 years old. Over the hill. Past my prime. Kaput. Past my “best by” date. Done for. I have no problem with that.

The problem is this: I don’t remember getting old. It doesn’t seem that long ago that we were in the midst of the 80s — “my” generation, “my” decade. That’s when I was young. That was 20 to 29 years ago. Ouch.

Let’s review.  Did I do all the years and decades I was supposed to do, or did I somehow skip some?

Childhood? Check, I’m pretty sure I did that. Awkward teenage years? Check, I have vague memories of that too. I think the end of that period is when I joined the Air Force.

Twenties?  Check. Went to college, did lots of gaming. Don’t remember the college part much but I remember the gaming.

Thirties? Check. Did that. Forties? Yup, got that going right now. Nope, no years missing.

So where did the time go?

Your twenties are spent growing up, learning how to be on your own, learning how to be an adult, and learning how to survive. Your thirties are spent figuring out your career. By the time you hit 40 you’re old, over the hill, and society no longer has any use for you.

Here’s my suggestion. I think we need another decade in there, right between your thirties and forties, just for enjoying life once you’ve figured it out and before it’s all over.

I know I need at least one more decade to waste playing computer games.