So another year is behind me, and I am typing out a blog entry on the iPad I received as a gift this year. It has been about 35 years or so since the first time I ever used a computer, my earliest recollection of technology was going to my father’s office and playing Spacewar on the mainframe console in the giant computer room. In a room roughly the size of my old high school cafeteria, rows of cabinets contained the mainframe infrastructure for the Massachusetts State College Computer Network, providing a network for all the colleges in the state, with a crew of people maintaining it and operating all the different functions around the clock.

I also remember sitting at the desk next to my dad’s office, right by where his secretary sat, and doodling on a pad of paper. It has not escaped me that the mainframe that took up so much room is not as powerful a computer as the device I am using to type this now, which is about the same size as the doodle pad I used back then.

While it may be very stereotypical to talk about the changes in technology over the span of my lifetime, I cannot help but look at my sons and wonder what the dramatic changes they will see over that same span. When I was in eighth grade, I remember talking to one of the kids in my class at a small parochial school about connecting my computer at home through a phone line to computers all over the country, if I wanted. Between the state college system and the beginning of BBSes, I was reading info and playing games on the computer in our house along with people all around the world. There was a girl who was sitting nearby who kinda turned her nose up at me (something that happened a lot, she really did not like me, being all nerdy and not really into the social crap) and said that was impossible, and such a waste of time. She then went back to talking to another girl and they kinda laughed at me being such a nerd. I don’t know whatever became of either of them, and frankly could not care any less, but I like to think about karma every now and then, and entertain the thought that they received some sort of comeuppance in some sort of Revenge Of The Nerds style way.

I look at my boys, however, as yesterday they huddled together watching videos on my wife’s iPhone, and compare their worldview to mine, and I wonder what sort of thing that they dream of experiencing that would be laughed off as impossible now will be ubiquitous in thirty years. Hopefully I will get to see it too, but it still won’t be the same, I will be like my grandmother was, seeing the introduction of radio, tv, space exploration, the Internet, medical science going from discovering penicillin to somehow allowing a baby born at 26 weeks gestational age to survive and now be taller than most of his family. I will be the guy telling my grand kids about tumble tuners, rabbit ears, rotary dial phones, and having to plug a wire into the back of my computer to connect to broadband.

I’m 43 now. I have a job that still makes me shake my head and wonder how the hell I ended up in something so unique and amazing. I have a family of my own, and two kids that amaze me with not only their minds and personalities and potential, but just by their very existence. I have friends that I would never want to replace, both locally and around the world. That greasy-haired hyper-shy 8th grader is long dead, as people find it unbelievable now that he even existed,not having known me then. There have been many bumps on the way, some events and decisions for good or ill that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But also moments of great joy. I also know there are more of all of these things ahead of me.

I am ok with that. And really, that’s the main thought I have at 43. Change happens, life moves forward, and it’s going to be great at times, suck at others. I am prepared to be amazed at technology and science. Disappointed by a lot of the rest of humanity. But overall I still have a hopeful outlook and look forward to seeing how it all plays out.

Also, we better have some friggin jet packs soon.

It’s after New Year’s, and finally we have come to the end of a long, grueling period of time where we are barraged with some of the most annoying things on earth, Year-In-Review lists.  From Top Ten News Stories Of 2011 and Top Ten Viral Videos Of 2011 to The List Of The Top Lists Of 2011, the last week of December is rife with everyone in the media coming up with the most ridiculous retrospectives, just to fill the time left by shows in rerun state, or being put on temporary hiatus because people actually like it and the network doesn’t know how to handle that. (Yes I am still angry at NBC about this Community bullshit)

We all do it, though.  I’ve been going over this past year myself, it’s been tumultuous, crazy, and full of ups and downs that rival the worst roller coasters.  I see on Facebook how people are going over the past year, happy and sad moments, and talking about them.  Personally, I’m happy to see this year in the rear-view mirror, but the whole concept of a year is an arbitrary convention that we use that has no real bearing in the way things happen, so really, I guess I am just glad I have this marker tonight to be able to remind myself it’s all in the past now.  Of course, the pessimistic cynic in me also assumes that this year will be just as chock-full of sucky moments, and hopes for at least some positive wins to help balance it off.

I dislike the whole concept of resolutions, both on philosophical and practical grounds.  The idea of making these resolutions based on the new date does not really show a desire to commit to something like that, generally, because you KNOW that the things you resolve to do or not do are for your own improvement, and should be doing it already.  Just, maybe, not doing it well.

So instead of resolutions, I have decided to set a few goals for myself this year, and see if I can’t make the time we have left until the Mayangeddon in December hits.

1. Work a little harder at being more active.  I am not foolish enough to think I will go to a gym or anything with any regularity, but at least walk more, climb stairs instead of elevators when there are only a floor or two to go up, that sort of thing.  I might not lose a lot of weight just doing that, but it can’t hurt and is a place to start.
2. (NOTE: This is probably the only time I will ever talk about my work here) Do my damnedest to improve myself professionally to run my team better and do my part in the re-election effort.  Seriously, this is a big deal for me, and a unique opportunity that fate has delivered, I really want to make the most of it.  It’s not every day you get to be a part of something historic like this.
3. Write more.
4. Figure out what I want to do when I grow up.  This is still up in the air.

All say, “How hard it is that we have to die” – a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.  ~Mark Twain

One of the hardest lessons we learn as children is when we are introduced to the concept of mortality.  Sometimes it is a pet, sometimes an older relative, sometimes someone we are close to.  A grandparent, maybe.  But most of us are introduced to it at an age where it is merely a concept, in many ways what higher science becomes to most people, you understand the basic idea, but the actual meaning of it is lost to you.

My earliest recollection was a vague recollection of being told my great-grandmother had died. I was maybe three or four years old, and the total of the memory was that we wouldn’t see her at Christmas anymore.  A couple of years later, I found my kitten, cleverly named “Baby Kitty”, in the backyard, and after an investigation my mother told me she probably fell out of the big tree I found her under.  I do remember crying about that, but that’s about all.

As I grew older, the family cat (and Baby Kitty’s mother) died at age 14 when I was 11 or so, my dog died when I was 15, at nearly the same age, and these deaths really affected me.  I remember coming downstairs and stroking my dog’s fur, saying goodbye to my best friend and constant companion growing up as the Oscars were being awarded on the TV in the next room.  Even now, thinking about it decades later, I still tear up a little bit, and whenever the Oscars are on, I think back to that evening.

I was lucky, though.  I did not lose any people that were close to me until I was well into my teens, when my paternal grandfather passed away my senior year.  The next three years, well, let’s just say it was a crash course as several of my older relatives on my dad’s side all reached that age together and it felt like every couple of months was another funeral.

As I have gone through life since, I have lost friends, relatives, people I have loved, and people who have meant more to me than I truly realized.  Just a few weeks ago, my grandmother passed away at age 91, and I’m still somewhere in the middle stages of dealing with it.  But really, I cannot complain, she lived an amazingly full life, and got to know her five great-grandchildren and took great joy from them, and her life in general.  I was so fortunate to have had both of my grandparents until my thirties, and my grandmother until I was 42, and I am fully aware of how rare that really is.

Tonight, I visited my great-uncle Paul, who has been ill for some time now, and is in the hospital after having a heart attack.   To be frank and blunt, he does not have much time left, but tonight in his room were four of his sons, three of his grandchildren, two of his daughters-in-law, myself, my aunt, and my uncle who is also Paul’s godson.  We sat in his room, visiting with him when he was awake, telling stories, jokes, and reminiscing about times past, much like we did at my grandmother’s house the night she died.

As I drove home tonight, I thought about all of this, and pondered how very Irish this was of us.  There’s an appreciation for a life well-lived, and for what the generation before us gave us.  A bonding and a sharing of comfort during a sad and stressful time, as well as a reflection on your own life and how the person who you no longer have in the circle with you has affected you.  And then it really hit me.

I’m 42 years old, have a family of my own, a career, and supposedly a smart guy.  But after all this time since I was told about my great-grandmother, since I buried pets, relatives, and friends, I realized that I still don’t fully grasp the entirety of death.  Some day there will hopefully be a group of my loved ones sitting around my hospital room, sharing stories and telling jokes as I approach my threshold on that journey at the tender age of 135, and I am willing to bet that even then I won’t have my brain wrapped around it.

This a bit heavier than I had intended for my second post on this site, I was originally mulling over a bit about the Occupy Wall Street events from last night, and complaining that the guy with the guitar at Occupy Boston should not be trying to sing House Of The Rising Sun with rewritten lyrics and somehow managing to have three different keys in there, none of which are the same key being played on the guitar, and even that is not the key the song is supposed to be in.  But that seemed so petty in light of how my day turned out, and how hard it is for my cousins, whose mother suffered with Alzheimer’s for many years before passing away last summer, and is now watching their father in a hospital bed, returning to him a tiny fraction of the love and comfort that he and his wife gave to them growing up.

In any case, I lost the urge to bitch about politics and stuff, and instead just decided to reflect a bit on this journey every single one of us will take one day, and how really lucky I am to have the family I do.  I also came to the conclusion that working for an effort like OWS, political campaigns, social groups, or even just the company you are employed by seems so important, and sometimes is, but it just pales in comparison to being a part of and really appreciating a great family and circle of friends.

Rejoice with your family in the beautiful land of life!  ~Albert Einstein