Tom Edelson: Tom Edelson on Tom Edelson

My Dog Died

Wed, 12 Nov 2008 19:20:24 GMT

Toofus was a fifteen-year-old retired racing greyhound, who had been part of my household for five and a half years. Fifteen is really old: the median longevity of the breed is a little more than thirteen years. He had various health problems, particularly gradual loss of some of the function of the hind legs; so I knew that he was slowing down, and that I should not be surprised if he came to the end of the road within the next year, or even in any given month. But there was nothing acute, nothing to indicate that it was imminent ....

... until 5 am on Sunday, October 12, when I was awakened by noises, and went and found that things were a good deal worse. He had fallen, struggled to get up, and fallen again -- several times, apparently, because all four legs had places where skin had come off as he staggered against the legs of the dining room table.

This was on a hard-floored surface. When I got him on to the carpet, he was able to stand and walk. But shakily.

I began to face the question of whether it was time to euthanize him. I talked to various people on the phone.

Meanwhile, I was observing that he was somewhat stabilized, but not showing any signs of returning to the previous day's level of functioning. He could get up, and walk around some; but he fell down several more times.

I became more or less clear that it was the right thing to let him go, to "send him to Rainbow Bridge", as the current expression has it; but I thought that it could wait for the next day, when the regular veterinarians would be open. Then, in the evening, it got worse yet: he fell down again, and, after twenty minutes, had not made any attempt to get up. So then it became clear, intellectually but also emotionally, that the more merciful thing was to grant him his honorable discharge, and do it quickly.

I ended up using a "pet ambulance" service to get him to the Cary pet emergency clinic. He was given the lethal injection, an overdose of a sedative, at about 11 pm. It was over in less than a minute.

I cried some, there and then. The next day, I was sad, but not intensely so; I was at peace with my decision. However, a month later, I am under no illusion that I am done grieving.

I loved that dog.

Categorie(s) for this post:

Greyhounds

An Invitation to Read About My Spiritual Journey

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 16:05:25 GMT

Actually, my home page at The Well has had, for some time, a link called "Notes on my spiritual journey". But the linked-to document was in plain text, and not so easy to read.

Now, there's a newer version up, in HTML, and the content has been revised a good bit, too. You can find it via the home page, or at http://www.well.com/user/edelsont/personal/my-spiritual-journey.html.

It offers some insight into the "Quaker" and "Taoist" parts of my self-description (in the masthead of this blog). It doesn't say anything about the "poly" part, but I hope to address that soon.

My Spiritual Journey may also be the only page on the Web with links to all of these Wikipedia pages (among others):

At first glance, my spiritual journey may look like a random walk. But there's some interesting scenery, and good mental exercise, along the way.

Categorie(s) for this post: About me, Philosophy, Quakerism, Writing.

Returned from the Dead

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 19:54:05 GMT

I've been among the missing again: I haven't posted here since August 28 of last year. A lot happened during that time. In particular, my mother died. Her name was Cynthia Ulrich Edelson, and she was ninety years old.

That happened on November 7, but between the emotional processing and the practical things that must be done, I wasn't accomplishing much on other projects for a good while after that.

My relationship with my mother was, distinctly, difficult. It's been a long time since I even pretended, to much of anyone, that I would regret her passing; that is, I anticipated that I'd be happier, and better off, when she was gone.

But that didn't mean that I imagined that it would be easy. The end of any important relationship, even a bad one, involves some grieving; I knew that all along. If nothing else, you grieve, in a more final way, the loss of hope that the relationship could be better; I don't think, with a parent, that hope ever really dies. Not until the parent does; then it becomes rationally certain that, at least in this life, what you saw was what you got, and all you ever will.

I am pleased to report that my predictions were fulfilled. Her final illness was mercifully short: she had a heart attack on Monday morning, and died, without ever fully regaining consciousness, on Wednesday afternoon. I got a lot of grieving done during those two days, and during the days and weeks afterwards.

The aftermath is not over. I still have things of hers to sort through. And I've begun a sort of capsule biography of her, which, when it's done, I plan to put on the Internet (probably on the site at The Well, not here on the blog).

But the aftermath of my mother's death is no longer absorbing so much of my attention that I can't make progress on other things. I've been doing some programming, for one thing. I won't say much about that here: just that it has to do with two of my long-standing interests, namely, personal finance software, and the Scheme programming language.

And I do believe that my other predictions are also being fulfilled; that now that the hard part of the transition is over, I am a happier person than I was before my mother died. I seem to be having an easier time fully believing that I can trust my own judgment about what's worth doing, for instance.

Anyway, I'm back.

Categorie(s) for this post: About me.

What attracted me to Philosophy?

Tue, 28 Aug 2007 17:24:33 GMT

This follows up on the two previous posts; together, the three of them attempt to answer the questions,

How, and why, did I come to choose "philosophy" as a major, and go all the way to a Ph.D. in that subject?
What does that [the answer to the first question] tell one about my outlook on life, even now, more than forty years later? (And in particular, how might it help one to understand "where I'm coming from", and "what I'm getting at", in [some] things that I write today?)

The post dated August 8 of this year began the process by laying out the bare bones of the autobiographical facts which need explaining, and then posing the questions.

The one dated August 18 offered a partial answer to the first part of the first question; that is, it focused on some factors that kept me from choosing another, otherwise appealing, academic path: majoring in a "hard science" subject like physics.

But now we reach the heart of the first question: what were the positive factors which drew me to choose philosophy as a major, and then as a Ph.D. subject?

I don't know (don't remember?) what answer I would have given to that question at the time. But I am fairly sure that I would not have come up with anything like the answer I shall give now.

This answer isn't simple: there's no way to reduce it to a single sentence. I shall, indeed, first give the answer as briefly as I can, and then expand on it a little; but even the shortest form must begin with some background, that is, by stating some [alleged] facts about my state of mind at the time.

I was in considerable emotional distress much of the time, and it was at its peak during my sophomore year -- the year in which I was supposed to declare my major. (Apparently, for sensitive souls, having a particularly hard time during the second year of college is actually rather common.) A good part of the distress was associated, in my mind, with a lack of clear goals for my life; a lack of clear reasons for doing anything, in fact. And it seems that I believed that studying philosophy would (or at least might) remedy this: might lead me to discover a sense of purpose.

Some of the pain had a more specific cause: I can remember some that was about romantic difficulties. But at times, I had some quite seriously suicidal thoughts, and a few times, took actions towards implementing them; and at those times, the thought in my conscious mind was that there was no reason to go on living, because there was no reason ... no "valid" reason ... to do anything.

Some readers may have the highly logical response: if there's no reason to do anything, then, in particular, there's no reason to kill yourself. If that occurred to you, congratulations, because my self-perception is that that very thought saved my life, more than once. I believed that I was getting ready to kill myself; and then I didn't, because (again, in my conscious mind) it then occurred to me that there was no good reason to complete this action, any more than there was a good reason to do anything else.

If I recall correctly, at those times, I followed out the implications of these thoughts rather accurately ... for a while. I can remember a time in an attic when I was thinking of hanging myself. Once I "realized" that there was no reason to do that (either), I sat there and didn't do anything (except breathe) for, perhaps, twenty or thirty minutes. Then I got hungry, or felt a need to pee, and acted on that desire.

In some ways, then, my thought processes were highly logical (one might also say, frightfully so) ... given my premises. But not in all respects. For instance, I didn't ask myself if there was anything to be learned, relevant to the "big question" of purpose in living, from the fact that certain desires did lead to action, without stopping to consider whether, say, being hungry actually gave me a valid reason for seeking out something to eat.

And even more strikingly, from my present perspective: I don't recall that the following question ever occurred to me, after I had established, in my mind, that if there's no reason to do anything, then it follows that there's no reason to kill myself. That question is: why was it that, even after that, brooding about having no reason for anything still, in fact, led me to thinking of killing myself?

(I also don't recall being bothered by any inconsistency in the fact that, as described in my previous post, I managed to come up with what I considered a valid reason not to major in physics, though that was otherwise appealing. It would seem that accepting a valid reason not to do something was, for some reason, less problematic.)

At any rate, it was against this background that I made the decision to become a philosophy major; and then I pursued the subject all the way to a doctoral degree. I knew that questions like "what are good (or valid) reasons for doing things?" were questions that [some] philosophers worked on trying to answer. (They fall into the sub-field known as "ethics".)

I was regarding the question, "are there any good reasons for doing anything?", as, quite simply, an open question. (And thus, adopting what must have seemed like an appropriately skeptical, "nothing is certain" attitude, applying that even to my own apparent certainty that there were not any good reasons for doing anything.) It was, in my eyes, a philosophical problem that had not yet been solved, at least to my satisfaction; and I proposed to try to solve it.

I must have been hoping that the answer would "turn out to be": yes, there are such things as good, or valid, reasons; for only in that case would finding the answer relieve me from further instances of the distress associated with thinking that there are not. And I do, now, have a confident, intuitive sense that the desire to escape that distress was, at some underlying psychological level, the true motive (note in passing: not "reason") for choosing to follow this path. Or a big part of the motive, anyway.

And that brings me to a stopping place, for I have completed an answer to the first question: how, and why, I came to pursue the academic career that I did.

One might think that the next step would be to try to answer the second question: what does this piece of my history tell one, that's important in understanding the mind-set that I bring to life now? I do intend to try to answer that, but not right away. (Nor even "in the next post", nor "Real Soon Now".)

Instead, I plan to put this topic aside for a while, and go about the business of living ... including "writing about computers, life, and society". That may well include a different kind of follow-up to this topic: having made this momentous decision to devote myself to the study of philosophy, with emphasis on questions like "Are there any good, or valid, reasons for doing anything?" ... did I come up with any sort of answer?

But as to what all this tells you about me ... that may just sort of come out in the process, and not need to be answered explicitly. Also, perhaps y'all will be able to help me figure it out.

Categorie(s) for this post include: About me; Philosophy; Quakerism

So why not, say, physics?

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 20:55:53 GMT

Here, I'm going to try to answer the first part of the question which which I ended the last post, namely, the blog entry titled "How I became a "philosopher" ... and what it tells you about me". That's the "negative" part of the question: why didn't I pick one of the other majors I'd considered, like, for example, physics?

When I started college in 1964, I had a pretty strong idea that I wanted to get a Ph.D. and become a college professor, or, at any rate, some sort of researcher And yes, I was attracted to the teaching side of being a professor, too, but most fundamental was the desire to go on my own quest of the mind: to devote my efforts to finding answers to some of the intriguing, puzzling, downright maddening questions with which my head seemed to be filled. I wanted to understand the world, a lot better than I did understand it yet.

Unlike some choices of occupation, this one didn't dictate a choice of major; in fact, it hardly constrained that choice at all. The choice of major was just a choice of which category of questions I most wanted to pursue. That wasn't easy, because there were so many of them that seemed to be beckoning to me.

When you entered as a freshman, you were suppose to declare a major tentatively, and at that time I put down "mathematics". That form of abstract, "pure thought" inquiry had appealed to me the most, in high school.

We were supposed to declare a major "for real" by the end of the sophomore year. As that academic year got underway, I realized that it wasn't at all clear to me what I would, and/or should, choose. So I tried narrowing the choices to five possibilities. But it was an odd sort of narrowing, because the five were so diverse: mathematics, physics, history, economics, and philosophy.

In the end, though, it came down to a choice between two: physics and philosophy. Or perhaps it would be historically inaccurate to put it that literally; but at least, those two will serve as representatives of a choice between two paths ... broader, and more fundamental, than the literal choice between the two specific majors.

If I had [still?] been motivated entirely by the prospective joy of learning and discovering things, I think I would have chosen physics. It had supplanted mathematics, by then, as the most appealing form of purely intellectual inquiry, to me.

So why didn't I choose it? There were at least two reasons, but the one that was more about physics, itself, was a concern about the consequences of my actions. Even though I thought of myself as wanting to pursue "pure research", I knew that people often find practical applications for discoveries that others have made.

And I was concerned, in particular, about the possibility that my work might find application, without my cooperation, in weapons. I was not, never have been, a total pacifist; but I also didn't have total faith that my country would use military force only when, and to the degree, that I would call it truly necessary.

While this was during the time of the Viet Nam conflict, I think a bigger part of the context, for me, was the "cold war"; particularly, the enormous quantities of "strategic weapons" held constantly at the ready by the United States, the Soviet Union, and some others. I believed that these were excessive, because they were, on each side, more than enough to destroy the threat posed by the presumed enemy. It seemed clear that if these arsenals were used, there would be no winner, and that the loser would be the human race, and life on Earth, as a whole.

As I look back on this now, I haven't changed my opinion about these strategic weapons: that having that much firepower on line was something whose danger, to all, outweighed its benefits. I do find myself less clear, though, about the logic of taking that as a reason not to become a physicist. For one thing, it doesn't seem all that likely that I would have, without intending to, made a discovery that would enable the making of yet more lethal weapons. (It also seems a tad bit grandiose to think that likely enough to worry about; but such is the way of youth.)

I could have also made the argument, to myself, that if the leaders wanted to make the "overkill" capacity even worse than it already was, they could do so, by adding even more of the same kinds of weapons So perhaps [further] scientific and technological innovation in strategic weapons had already become, in a sense, irrelevant; the limits of that innovation no longer constrained how horrific a scenario the military planners could present us with, given enough money to spend, and the belief that there was a reason to do it.

I don't actually know, today, whether I think that this sort of "don't worry about it" argument would have been valid, or not. For purposes of explaining the choice I made back then, in what must have been the 1965 - 66 academic year, I don't think it matters, because to the best of my recollection, such an argument simply didn't occur to me at the time.

The concerns about military applications of my research, were I to become a physicist, were real, though, logical or not, and they were a factor, at least, in my choice of major. There were other factors, too (and not all of them neatly separable from this one), but those were more a matter of what drew me towards philosopny as a major, rather than what drove me away from physics. So I will deal with them in another post.

Categorie(s) for this post include: About me; Philosophy; Quakerism

How I became a "philosopher" ... and what it tells you about me

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 22:38:08 GMT

The general masthead for this blog (currently) says: "Writing about computers, life, and society from the perspective of a 'poly Quaker Taoist' living in the Triangle region of North Carolina." I thought it might be helpful to say a little more about what "my perspective" actually is, when writing about "life" or "society". There are more facts about me that could help you to understand "where I'm coming from", beyond the fact that I label myself as polyamorous, and as simultaneously a Quaker and a Taoist.

One of those facts is that ... while almost my entire working life has been as a computer professional, of one sort or another ... my academic major was Philosophy.

In fact, I have three degrees: an "A.B" (Bachelor's) from Cornell, and an M.A. and Ph.D., both from the University of California at Berkeley; and all three of them are in Philosophy, not (for example) Computer Science.

So how does this help you understand "where I'm coming from"? Well, for one thing, if my writing, despite my efforts to the contrary, sometimes sounds like something written for an academic journal ... this could be why.

But [perhaps] more importantly, I'd like to tell you [at least part of the reason] why I chose this particular major, and pursued it all the way to a Ph.D.

From an employability standpoint, there is, for the most part, only one thing you can "do with" a Ph.D in Philosophy: teach philosophy in a college or university. There are exceptions, that is, other jobs for which an employer may choose specifically to look at "philosophers", among others, as potential recruits; but, in my experience, they are rare enough to fall into the "exception that proves the rule" category.

As it turned out, I didn't end up having a career in teaching philosophy (and how, and why, that happened is a whole 'nother story). But at the time that I enrolled in the Ph.D. program, that was the career that I intended to pursue. So why did I want to do that? The academic life, in general, appealed to me; but why philosophy and not one of the other subjects which held a lot of interest for me, such as mathematics (my declared major when I first entered Cornell as an undergraduate) or physics?

That's one question, but can be viewed from two sides: the negative side (why not [e.g.] physics?), and the positive side (why [specifically] philosophy?). I will be addressing both sides of the question ....

... Real Soon Now.

Categorie(s) for this post include: About me; Philosophy.

What I've been busy with, continued

Sat, 07 Jul 2007 19:07:35 GMT

So, after another long pause, I'll try to answer the question which remained at the end of my previous post: how does my friend Jim's being in jail make me busier?

Well, you see, Jim had an interactive Web site, which he referred to as a wiki, and which he'd set up, more than a year earlier, in order to experiment with how wikis work. When he found out, in May of this year, that he'd being spending six months in jail, Jim had the brainstorm that this existing wiki could be repurposed: it could be a communication vehicle for those who wanted to stay in touch with him, and otherwise support him, while he was in the correctional facility. For example, he could write something like a "blog" which could be posted on the site. (No, he doesn't have computer access in jail; he writes it by hand, a Minnesota Friend transcribes it and e-mails it to me, and I put it up on the site. But that's getting ahead of the story.)

Jim put a quite a lot of energy into getting the site ready for this use, during the short time he had before reporting as ordered. But he knew from the outset that, for this to work, someone else would need to administer the site while he was actually "inside". As he and I are pretty close friends, and fellow "semi-retired" computer professionals, he asked me to do this, and I readily agreed.

And for weeks (through, and well beyond, the last update to this Radio blog), I, in turn, poured a great deal of energy, and more than a little worry, into it. As for the worry part: at least part of me knew, all along, that nothing really critical depended on getting this wiki (which I prefer to call an "interactive Web site") set up "just right". But I was upset about Jim's having to go to jail; felt "there must be something I can do to help"; and when the opportunity to do this presented itself, I not only was happy to oblige, but undoubtedly invested it with some of the emotion that I wished I could invest in "fixing things" so that he didn't have to go to jail, if only there were a way to do that. I'm sure there's a technical name, among shrinks, for this phenomenon.

One issue with which I wrestled a lot was whether to take advantage of the wiki software's capability to restrict access to the site, so that only those with a username and password could "get in". I ended up doing so, but it was a hard decision for me, because it wasn't what Jim had intended, when he handed it over to me; and I wanted to respect his wishes as much as I could. But I ended up concluding that I would have to trust my own instincts: he was "inside", by the time that I understood the pros and cons of this issue.

Anyway, that's only an example of the things I've agonized over, and labored on, in trying to make this site serve its several purposes, as best I could.

I can imagine that I might have made you curious to see the actual site in question. Actually, I think part of me hopes I've make you curious. But it wouldn't do much good to list the URL, since, as I said, you'd need a username and password in order to "get in".

I will tell you that the "wiki" software in question is known as JotSpot. The people who developed it call it a "wiki", but more specifically, an "application wiki". This means that within such a site, you can have various pages which embody various kinds of on-line applications (from forums to spreadsheets), not just the "web pages you can edit right in your browser" which are most commonly associated with the term "wiki". That's part of why I prefer to call it an "interactive Web site"; the other part of the reason is that some people don't associate anything with the term "wiki": that word is just not part of their vocabularies.

I could take this bit of writing in different directions, from here. I could talk more about the JotSpot technology: why it seems potentially promising to me, and why I'm worried that the promise will not be realized.

I could also talk about Quakerism: Jim and I are both friends and Friends, i.e. members of the Raleigh Friends Meeting, and most of the people participating in this support effort at the Minnesota end are members or attenders of the Twin Cities Friends Meeting. So it would be interesting to discuss whether the way I've been able to build cooperation with these people, whom I've never met, reveals anything that's special about the Religious Society of Friends (the more formal term for the faith tradition known as Quakerism).

Perhaps I'll do both of those things, if I can find the time. But that will be in posts yet to come.

What I'm up to: an unexpected turn of events

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 21:02:30 GMT

It's been quite a while since I last added anything to this blog. But no, I'm not drifting into one of those really long gaps, of six months or so. I'm determined to keep posting a heck of a lot more frequently than that, though the average time between posts may be greater than it was during this past spring.

What's making me busier? Well, I am making some progress on coding the Moneydance extension promised in my last post. However, the biggest change is something less predictable than that.

My good friend Jim is in jail. He's been there about a week, and will be there for six months.

It wasn't a complete surprise. He was not, for example, arrested on the street and taken directly to jail. About two weeks ago, he got something in the mail from a court in Minnesota, ordering him to report about a week later to a county facility there. And so he did. (Jim, like I, lives in the Raleigh area of North Carolina.)

And the letter wasn't a complete surprise to him, when he got it, either. He'd had a hearing some months ago, and he knew that this was a possible [worst case] outcome. He'll be locked up for six months because he's been held in contempt of court.

I may have gotten you curious: what is this case actually about? If so, I apologize, but I'm not going to answer that. I said as much as I did only to give a bit of the flavor of it as an experience for him, and for me: that it was sudden, but not extremely sudden; also that it's a civil, not a criminal matter.

All this doesn't explain how his being incarcerated leads to my being busier. I plan on addressing that in my next post.

I'm a cancer survivor

Thu, 10 May 2007 21:38:40 GMT

It's been true since before I started this blog, but I don't seem to have mentioned it before. I got my diagnosis of prostate cancer three years ago this month: May, 2004. I had a prostatectomy (surgery to remove the prostate gland) toward the end of July of that year. (Missed my niece's wedding in California, which happened a couple of days before the operation.)

The results of my PSA (prostate-specific antigen) tests went to "undetectable" soon afterwards, which is the best available indication that the cancer is, in fact, cured. Strictly speaking, though, one never can be absolutely sure of that; it becomes certain for all practical purposes only about ten years after the operation, assuming the PSA results don't change.

I do live my life on the assumption that prostate cancer is not going to kill me. And so I can (and do) count myself as lucky. Not as one of the luckiest of survivors, though, in that I still have some side effects, urinary and sexual, from the operation. I'm still working on those.

Though I no longer feel as if my life is in danger from this disease, it has also led to a permanent change in my outlook: I am not likely to forget again that you never know. At any time, something may come along which threatens, at least, to kill you.

I'm sure that that made me a lot less willing to slog along in a job environment that I had come to hate, just waiting until I was sure that I was financially ready to retire. And so, my cancer experience is probably part of the explanation of how I came to retire when I did, last June, when I was not at all sure that I was financially ready.

Categorie(s) for this post include: About me; Retirement.

What I'm up to: April 2007 edition

Tue, 17 Apr 2007 20:54:06 GMT

These days I am testing the hypothesis that writing can be a basic part of what my future is about. By "writing" I mean writing English (some on computer-related topics, and some not), as opposed to "coding" (actually writing computer programs). I expect still to write some code, but perhaps that won't be the center of what I do: not as much as it has been for most of my career.

I know I can write; the hypothetical part is whether I can make some money at it, from time to time. That would certainly help; I'm not ready to consider myself entirely retired, yet.

Categorie(s) for this post: About me; Retirement.

A Change in the Masthead

Tue, 27 Feb 2007 16:53:36 GMT

Today, I am changing the "description", or subject line, that appears at the top of my blog pages from this:

Sharing thoughts -- well, planning to -- about computer programming and software, being polyamorous in the Triangle area of North Carolina, and whatever else comes to mind.

To this:

Writing about computers, life, and society from the perspective of a "poly Quaker Taoist" living in the Triangle region of North Carolina.

I think this better sums up what I want to write about, and includes more of the major influences on the way I look at the world.

Also, it's less tentative: the "well, planning to" part doesn't fit my current state of resolve.

Categorie(s) for this post: Blogging.

Starting Over, Sort Of

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 16:04:15 GMT

The title of this post refers to the fact that once again, there's been a long gap in my posting.

So what am I up to these days?

The most important answer is, "finding myself". I'm sixty years old, consider myself semi-retired, and am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

It's now been a little over eight months since I left my last full-time job, as a developer of installation programs for SAS Institute. ("Last", at least in the sense of most recent; perhaps "last" in the sense of "last regular, full-time job ever".)

But within the last month or so, I've realized that, until then, I'd been suffering from a disorder for which I've coined the name phantom boss syndrome. In other words, I hadn't really let myself believe that I can actually choose what to do. So more recently, I've been in a process of coming more fully into that realization.

This blog entry is one manifestation of that. I've been wanting to write more often, for this and other media, but hadn't been letting myself do it. I am hoping that, now that the log-jam is broken, it won't form up again, at least not to anything like the same extent.

Now, I just have to figure out how to find myself some readers.

Categorie(s) for this post include: Retirement.

What I do

Sat, 26 Aug 2006 19:00:26 GMT

So what am I doing with myself, since I "retired"?

I consider myself to have two "callings": software developer, and writer.

Let me talk about the former for a bit, now.

At the moment, at least, I'd say that my three favorite programming languages are Perl, Scheme, and Java. (I wonder how many people there are who would pick those three. I suspect -- but not confidently -- that the answer would be "not many", because they're all so different from each other. )

Perl is the language I've worked in the most, over the last several years (which is to say, over the greater part of my time at SAS).

At any rate. My "focal project" at the moment is implementing a flexible backup utility as a Perl module. "As a Perl module" implies that this is not a standalone application designed for complete non-programmers to use: you have to write a Perl script in order to make use of it. But for those who know how to do that, it gives them a great deal of control over how the backups are done.

I'm writing this mostly because I want it. But I do intend, also, to submit it to CPAN (the Comprehensive Perl Archive Network), once it's done.

Categorie(s) for this post include: Retirement; Perl; Backup software.

I'm back ... and "retired"

Thu, 24 Aug 2006 18:48:00 GMT

Obviously, I haven't been posting lately ... like, in almost six months.

I've been, ah, busy. Yeah, that's it.

Seriously, though. My life has been through a lot of change in this time. The most notable: I'm no longer employed at SAS Institute. I ceased working there about two months ago.

I'm listed on their books as "retired". I'd say that "semi-retired" or "on sabbatical" fits my actual status better, since I don't expect to finish out my life without any more "work", meaning, activity which seeks to make money in some way.

Categorie(s) for this post: Retirement.

Where Else to Find Me

Fri, 17 Feb 2006 16:52:17 GMT

I also have a home page -- not a blog -- at The Well: http://www.well.com/user/edelsont/.

A Few Words About Me

Sat, 04 Feb 2006 17:07:48 GMT

I live in Cary, NC, with Toofus, a thirteen-year-old male brindle Greyhound.

I work as a software developer for SAS Institute. (I do installation programs.)

I don't expect to be blogging here about SAS -- the company or the software.

I do, however, expect to be posting about other topics in computer software and programming.

Among other things.