I'm still working. Sort of. I take on regular (brief) writing projects for a few old clients. But each year, I get pickier and choosier. I average about five hours a week. It seems like a lot more, but when I look at the numbers, five per is pretty much it.
I'm not making any forecasts about when I'll quit entirely, because at this point, it's pretty much in the hands of those few old clients. If they stop sending a little work my way, that will be it.
Will I miss it?
While I generally enjoy the work, I probably won't.
But for now, it gives me some human contact, a bit of structure, and a few extra bucks in my pocket.
In addition to my paid work, I have a regular Thursday volunteer gig, and irregular volunteer hours off and on.
Then there's Pink Slip, which is probably the longest running non-monetized blog in existence. I consider it my "Sunday painter" equivalent.
Will I be working at 100?
First off, I don't imagine I'll live that long. So there's that.
Oh, my paternal grandmother almost made it to 97, and several of her sibs made it into their late 90's, too. And my Aunt Mary, my mother's sister, lived to be 93, missing out on 94 by a couple of months. So, genetics wise, I guess I have a shot on the make-it-to-90 goal. We'll see. As long as I have my health and all my marbles, fine. If not, well, let it go. (Let me go.)
It might be a hoot to still be writing about technology and its uses when I'm 100, but will I be able to feign interest in what will be increasingly robotic-AI applications? Actually, I probably would be able to feign interest. I just might not like it.
But I sure would be a whatever the female equivalent of a graybeard is, able to dredge up - assuming I still have all my marbles - recollections of mainframes, client server, PC's without hard drives, floppy disks, the introduction of Windows, the Internet changing everything, the cloud, AI, smartphone apps. Seeing Bill Gates in a hotel lobby. Sharing an elevator with Bill Joy (Sun). Sitting next to Mitch Kapor (Lotus) on the Eastern Shuttle.
Will I be like Dustin Hoffman's character in Little Big Man? "My name is Jack Crabb, and I am the sole white survivor of the Battle of Little Big Horn." (Just looked it up: did that movie really come out in 1970? Seems like yesterday...) Not that I have any desire to live as long as the mythic Jack Crabb: 121. Shudder at that thought.
Anyway, my thoughts turned to the magic number of 100 when I read about Betty Reid Soskin, who turned 100 last fall and just hung up her ranger hat.
Ranger Betty, as she was known, had quite an interesting and varied career.
For years, Soskin was the oldest active ranger in the park service, leading public programs at the Rosie the Riveter/WWII Home Front National Historical Park in Richmond, Calif. That chapter of her rich life has finally come to a close: She retired [a few weeks ago], capping a career that saw her enrich histories of the World War II home front with her own experience as a woman of color facing segregation and hours of toil. (Source: NPR)
Rosie the Riveter was largely "a white woman's story" - Ms. Soskin's words - but, by volunteering to work on the planning committee for the Rosie/Home Front Park, she was able to provide nuance and the African American perspective. (Among other things, she is the great-granddaughter of a woman born into slavery in 1846. That remarkable woman lived to be 102, so Betty knew her.)
After all, she was her own version of Rosie the Riveter:
As a young woman during World War II, Soskin worked as a shipyard clerk for an all-Black auxiliary lodge of the Boilermakers union, which didn't allow people of color to join as regular members.After the war, Ms. Soskin and her husband opened a record store in Berkeley that specialized in soul and gospel. The store was in business for 74 years.
While she was helping run the record store, Betty Reid Soskin was also helping the historical park get off the ground, eventually working there on a grant focused on the Black World War II experience. This turned into a temp job at the age of 84 (!), which, in turn, turned into a permanent position as a ranger.
Ms. Soskin has has been rightfully celebrated. California Woman of the Year in 1995. A middle school named for her. In 2009, watching Barack Obama sworn in.
And in 2015, Soskin introduced President Barack Obama during the national tree-lighting ceremony in Washington. For that occasion, she carried a unique piece of her own history in her pocket: a photo of her great-grandmother.
What a story! Congratulations, Ranger Betty!
Me? If I'm alive at 100, will I be working? Probably not. But I do hope I'm able to be doing something other than just hanging on...
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