Get your head in the ClOuDE

Rands says I'm a project. "At some point, you, the nerd’s companion, were the project. You were showered with the fire hose of attention because you were the bright and shiny new development in your nerd’s life. There is also a chance that you’re lucky and you are currently your nerd’s project. Congrats."

(I was showered with the fire hose of attention?? That must be how my clothes ended in a wet heap on the floor...)

Yeah, whatever, here's the problem - I live in dictionopolis; Monkeyboy lives in digitopolis. As we've discussed in past blogs, there is a HUGE difference in the way the inhabitants of these two countries interact, primarily because we are generally taught to deal with numbers silently and words are for our out loud voices.

We count in our heads. We might use fingers and toes, pencil and paper, but we do it without speaking. Individuals who grow up being particularly good with numbers end up as software development engineers or actuaries and they live in a land of complete and utter silence, and this makes them enormously happy but a little difficult to communicate with.

On the other hand, when (as children) we are presented with letters, we are taught to sound them out. Letters are meant to be rolled around in your mouth until they come together in a verbal expression of communication that feels good.

Here's an example that illustrates the difference - when was the last time you checked out a book on tape that said, "Three hundred and eighty nine thousand six hundred and twenty two divided by seventeen is twenty two thousand nine hundred and eighteen point nine four one one seven six four seven zero five eight eight two three five two nine four one one seven six four seven zero five nine?"[1]

Now, that's not to say coders can't speak. They do and interestingly so. I typically hear, "Hm. That's not possible. Or is it? If I resync the factoring agent in the out of service tenant...holy shit, would that work? Would that really work? Holy fuckin' shit, I think that would work!" Sometimes this is said in the middle of the night when we are supposed to be (and one of us actually is) sleeping.

Rands is brilliant, though; despite the fact that he, himself, is a geek of extraordinary proportions, he has figured out a way to bridge the gap between dictionopolis and digitopolis and is kind enough to share his wisdom with those of us who cannot figure out when we are being spoken to or are just an emotional chalkboard for our code monkey to scribble on, like Walter from Fringe. (Rands, by the way, was also a shrink wrap guy, so perhaps this balanced him out in the end.)

So now, whenever monkeyboy goes aberrant, I refer back to Rands and apply his advice for getting along with a geek. Sometimes I do it a little later than might have been wise, and life goes to hell in a handbasket. Sometimes I do it with such huge success that monkeyboy doesn't even know we've just navigated a very narrow river full of shoals and piranha, a river whose treacherous banks are lined with natives possessing curare-tipped blowdarts which they are able to use with unerring accuracy making it essential that one travel these waters with great skill and mobility or end up a shrunken head and a nice salted roast at a cannibal carnival.

Rands tells me to watch for the vacant look on my geek's face and comments that don't fit the current conversation, comments like, "Cool!" when I've just announced the bathroom is flooding. At that time, I am supposed to look my digitite in the face and say, "Really? Did you hear what I said?" If he answers sheepishly, "Yes..." I am supposed to ask him to repeat back to me what he heard. Thus he is discovered and I have to repeat myself all over again.

Ok, that just sucks. I have a better idea. I will get a good book. I'll get a friend. I'll get a computer or a cell phone or some way of communicating with people who do not have blank looks on their faces and eyes that you can see are running lines of code like some Matrix screensaver.

HEY MONKEYBOY! I AM NOT A PROJECT!! I'm a value-added service. If you don't want to use the services, then don't be surprised when I question their value and thus discontinue offering them.

According to Rands, what my code monkey just heard was "Rands says I'm a project, blah, blah, blah..."

Sigh! Ok, I'll pick up a good book tonight, maybe some yarn and knitting needles (code monkeys need stocking caps, too, right?). As long as you occassionally reach over and stroke my knee so that I know we are both working on the same project, I don't mind the silence. After all, it's golden. But you're gonna have to wear the cap.

[1]If you picked up your calculator to check the veracity of this statement or if this was the only thing of interest to you in this blog, you are a geek. Or an actuary. Definitely a digitite.