My wife and I chatted last night about what would have been different if we'd not married. We got together in our early 20s - right out of college. My wife likes to point out that if I'd waited, I'd have grown into the geek role nicely just as it became popular.
I figure I'd probably be a billionaire. Actually, I'd probably be a former-billionaire, given how things have gone lately. A few of my friends started or got involved with young companies as they were leaving college, and they did pretty freakin' well for themselves. I chose to settle down, took a conservative approach. I figured staying out of debt, investing a little (but not too much!) and building a foundation were the right things to do.
In my wife's words, I lack ambition. That's not entirely accurate - I don't want to sell my soul for success, but when something interests me I sink my teeth in. I don't buy into the idea that controlling everything and making tons of money is the end-all be-all of success. If I like what I'm doing, I dig in and tear it up. I learn everything I can, try everything I can think of, and do stupid things just to see what happens.
A good example starts with ResEdit. Any long-time Mac user knows ResEdit. In the "good old days" before OS 8, even before System 7, ResEdit allowed all sort of cool things (beyond the legitimate application resources it was intended for). I had a toilet trash can replacement that made flushing noises when emptied. My menu shortcuts were rearranged to my liking. I hand-wrote school papers because Microsoft Word couldn't print until I figured out how to get the dialogs to work again.
Same thing with Frontier. Once I warmed up to it, I realized it was AppleScirpt on steroids, plus a lightweight database-backed WebServer, plus about a million other things. I'm far from the expert I'd like to be - I mostly dig into the features I need, rather than exploring the entire application end-to-end - but once I started to see potentiial I started trying things.
I gave up the mid-sized company because there was no growth potential and politics outweighed common sense. The second round of layoffs convinced me they were more interested in failing on their own than succeeeding because of someone else's good advice. I wasn't willing to play the "yes" game, so I moved on.
I went to a "start-up". An established design company had built and FileMaker database to track their projects. It was pretty good - good enough to convince a couple well-known companies that they wanted a copy. Of course the needs of a multi-billion dollar global corporation differ from those of a 15-person design company. They hired me to fill out their system from a small-time system to a full featured database (still in FileMaker, of course).When it was finished, they showed a few other clients and established more interest. We developed an asset-management system to complement it, and interest seemed high there too.
Of course there was a sudden "we could all get rich with this!" realization. This is when I made my big mistake (there's the ambition thing). I have no stake in this company. My success isn't tied to theirs any more than a standard employer-employee relationship. I enjoy what I do and like the people I work with, and that means alot, but my motivation to kill myself for the success of the company is purely internal. I'm not guaranteed any sudden bonus if my extra effort makes a big difference.
That was brought to the forefront at the end of our first year. We'd made a sizable profit, had a queue of clients interested in our software, and a solid start on abstracting the system from custom-built to shrinkwrap (or at least minor customization). I got a glowing review acknowledging my contribution, recommending an increased responsibilty - manage development, lead research into new technology. Seemed like things were terrific. Too bad there was a 3% raise, no year-end bones, and decreased company benefits to go with it.
Bad sign. I suddenly realized what I'd done is contribute to someone else's retirement. It became clear that my contribution was appreciated - I'd appreciate it if someone busted their ass so I could make more money, too - but it wasn't going to be reciprocated. I hadn't joined a startup, I'd joined a mom-and-pop organization that planned to pocket the profits, lease themselves a nicer car, and take longer vacations now that they had a competent developer to bring in the money.
Then it got worse. The technology industry imploded. Jobs dried up, and those that remained had killer competition. I wasn't excited about where I was any more, but the good alternatives weren't there like a few months earlier. Plus, why leave one bad situation for (probably) one just like it? I'm still making decent money, I just know it's a limited opportunity and really don't feel like working harder so someone else can get richer.
Then, of course, the work dried up. Well, no point in pushing the issue now. I can bitch all I want about getting a piece of the pie, but the pie is a whole lot smaller than before. Now, not only am I uninspired, but there's nothing to do (for profit, anyway). I'm bored, there's no money, and over the last year I've submitted a variety of technology recommendations that were discarded as "irrelevant at this time". Things like PHP and WebDAV seemed pretty relevant to a company that serves databases on the Web, but not to the decision makers. Now I'm uninspired, bored, and confused.
In the last 4 weeks, I found out my immediate superior has built a prototype of a system I proposed. Turns out a client did want it, even though it was "irrelevant at this time" a month earlier. He's reading up on PHP and WebDAV, because they're apparently interesting ways of implementing the new system. Of course my contribution will be to implement his design when it's flushed out better.
I must have done something wrong and don't know it. When I ask, things are hunky-dory, but the signs are there. "We appreciate your contribution. We are wealthier because of it. Maybe next year we'll give you another token raise and a $50 bonus. Sure, it could be more, but I'd rather lease an Volvo than a Honda, and we can't have both. Actually, the Honda was okay, but I went so far over on mileage that we can't afford to upgrade your copy of Office just yet. Thanks for buying your own copy of Radio, that makes things easier.
"Oh, and why have you started working 8 hour days and taking lunch all of a sudden? That's not like you? We need you to keep working overtime, though we can't pay you.
2:40:50 PM 
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