A couple of weeks ago my ham license expired (my 30th anniversary of being a ham.) Nowadays all I had to do was go the FCC website, fill out a little form and submit it. Given the average age of a ham these days, I imagine that this is a “still breathing” check.
Anyway, I checked a few minutes ago to see if the new license had been issued. It had been. My eyes caught the new expiration date. 07/17/2018. Damn!
I have long had as my goal to live to 2020. A reasonable goal, as it’d be in my early 60s. 2020 has a nice ring to it. Not a greedy goal, just a reasonable age and a catchy number. Of course, I’ll take whatever more years the Good Lord chooses to give me. Don’t take me wrong on that :-) Implied in that goal, if ever so deeply buried in my subconscious, is the notion that death is a little more acceptable after that.
I saw that 2018 date and it slammed me in the face! Damn! That’s just three years from my goal. That little subconscious thing started gnawing its way out of the back of my brain like a maggot through dead meat. Ahem.
Will I be around for the next one? “Damn”, I sez, “It’s possible that this is my last renewal”. Double damn! If I am around, I’ll be a teetering old geezer, no doubt making lives miserable for the young whipper-snappers on whatever the Internet is then. Oh God, I hope not!
That got me to thinking – always a dangerous thing. What will the net look like in 10 years? Will we all have email addresses that end in @att.gov? Will anonymity exist anymore? Will your login ID be your number from the Beast? Or will there be a rebellion against government and corporate control, returning the net back to its roots? Being an unreconstructed Rebel, I sure hope so. Could we ever hope to see public hangings for spammers? O’happy Day!
Well, enough thinking for the day. I’m tired now, made more so by one foot faintly brushing up against the threshold of geezerdom. Scary vision. Time for my Geritol and prunes….