kev.in

I used to be an above-average programmer. I started coding BBS utilities in Pascal when I was 13, and eventually got to be pretty proficient with algorithms and problem solving. I even won a team programming contest back in high school. By the time I graduated from college I was proficient in C and C++, Java and Perl. I was confident in my abilities, and even today I don’t think I was unjustified in my optimism.

When I graduated and moved to Sunnyvale in 2000, I took a Technical Support job at Ariba. I was under the impression that the job would eventually allow for a transition into development after some time. But let’s just say my timing was sub-optimal: the stock market, the job market, and the economy began swirling in the toilet the month I started, and I spent the next 4 years on the front lines supporting Ariba’s procurement network and applications. I worked with a great bunch of people, learned a lot and had some limited opportunities to write code, but I couldn’t help but feel my skills slipping away.

In 2004 I took another job at another company, but it didn’t deliver the development role it claimed to be offering. Instead, it was heavy on FTP but light on Java; it demanded unreasonable personal sacrifice as the status quo. While it is true I’ve learned quite a bit about Enterprise IT, system administration, project management and sales, deep down I know that tailing logs and copying files late on a Friday night can’t be my raison d’être.

So here I sit, many years since I’ve written code seriously; years after I accepted my fate and put my programming hat in mothballs. Yet the curious, creative fire still burns. I still read development blogs and books; I still learn about new frameworks. Either I am in denial, or — maybe — I could relearn what I’ve forgotten? Train myself anew? Become the headstrong, independent and infinitely capable developer I thought I’d be?

Can I reestablish proficiency as a coder? I’m betting the farm on it.

One of these days I’m going to start a blog. It will be perfect.

It’ll be informative, thoughtful, witty, current; maybe a little snarky. It will have a hipster name and I’ll post fun and artsy pictures to it. I’ll contribute my own carefully considered commentary to the heated discussion du jour. It will be a place for me to wax philosophic about intellectual, political and technical matters that affect us all. It will be entertaining but also deep. I will have a hundred thousand readers.

I will present useful, thorough tutorials for those eager to learn and post poignant stories about my life and my business. I’ll share best practices, productivity tips and programming recipes. My posts will generate pages of real discussion and make people think. Did I say a hundred thousand readers? Make that a million.

One of these days I’ll start a blog with a glassy logo and a slick pro-designer color scheme. It will have cool web 2.0 features. I’ll spend time each day writing articles and reviews of new technology, new companies and the Silicon Valley.

Honest, one of these days I’m going to start a perfect blog. Or I could start something now: perhaps just a simple picture at the top; a sidebar that shows songs I’ve recently played in iTunes; and a page with a list of blogs that I read. And then I can just start posting. Whether anyone reads it or not. Yeah. I think I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll start Right Now.