Onion. On belt. On fleek.
I was at this place. Never mind where. Someplace where I might be, but is unfortunately lots more hip than it would have been when I had any chance of being hip. Timing is everything. Lots of tattoos, interesting hair, clothes, hats. Listening to this fellow, 24 by his own account, talking to someone who claimed to be a project manager for a government organization. He wanted to show someone his deck before he posted it to StackExchange for comment. UX/UI, agile scrum sort of stuff. He wanted to make sure his design was suitable for the olds, you know, 45 or 55, his mom. And grandmom. Who couldn’t be bothered to drill down more than a link or two before they got lost.
I wanted to pull out my phone and point him at my original HEP CERN webpage (still up!) and the correspondence from (not to drop names) a certain knight discussing same and tell him that some of us olds had been doing UX/UI/agile/scrum since before he was born, and long before it was called that, as a sideline to, you know, actually building things that discovered the Higgs, or gravitational waves, or finding earth-like planets, and not just trying to learn Python or CSS or Swift while trying to find a unicorn startup or a quant job at an HFT firm.
Then I took my blood pressure meds from the onion on my belt when my Pulsar digital watch beeped, as that was the style at the time, and wondered if my head would end up in a jar next to Mike D (one hopes) or Nixon (hell), and kept my silence as they prattled on for the next 20 minutes. For that is the worst sin – to be boring.
At least put my jar next to Mimi Rogers.
Threat surface
My Employer decided the day after the Belgium incident (not the day of, oddly enough, though I certainly knew about it long before I went to work, so they must have, but didn’t react very quickly) to institute tougher security checks at the entrance. Physically touching peoples IDs (but not RFID scanning them, because no Bad Guy would ever be able to laminate a card – build a dirty bomb, yes, operate a plastic card-counterfeiting operation identical to those used for credit cards, no) and opening trunks (but not checking backseats or briefcases) really slowed things down. But it would not have stopped the San Bernadino incident – because those guys had cards and IDs. And work-issued cell phones.
And all it did was push the threat further out. What was to stop a Bad Guy with a legally purchased SKS from simply driving down the line of several hundred cars backed up to the freeway entrance that security had conveniently lined up like carnival ducks?
In fact, it seems like this was the MO of the Brussels airport attack. It was in the lines before the security check, not after.
Security theater. Not that there was any specific threat, just something-must- be-done; this-is-something-therefore-do-this. The richest part, if you have a certain sense of black humor is that Security lined up employees for a repeat of the same scenario. Or sad, in another mindset.
I’m still more likely to be shot by one of the rent-a-cops than killed by a terrorist though.
I do pine for the old days when the on-campus shooting range was available to members of the employee shooting club. Before my time, though not long before my time.
The world is a different place now. We’ll tell ourselves that, with a sigh, even though it really isn’t – it’s largely safer and less violent.