Photo by teriyaki tofu
The evolution of the System Administrator is truly deserving of a National Geographic documentary.
Technical conferences and seminars may as well have been called “Abstinence Fest”. Our ancestors were known as reclusive, socially retarded geeks. We can accurately estimate the age of some of the earlier system administrators by running a new type of Carbon Dating method which isolates the “sweat-ring” molecules found on our ancestor’s shirts.
They watched Twilight Zone (OK, some of us still watch it) and logged onto their favorite BBS every night. Our ancestors indulged in pr0n downloads at 300 baud.
Our ancestors looked to be in perpetual need of a shower.
We reign from the sanctuary of the server room to the corner area of the cube farm where nobody dare venture.
The stereotype has long been broken.
Pocket protectors have been replaced by PDA’s making us look like pretty much everyone else.
We are avid fishermen, hikers, bikers, dancers, potheads, musicians, mothers, fathers, groupies, fitness enthusiasts. Hell, some of us are even the “cool uncle” that our nieces and nephews want to hang with. We enjoy Indian cuisine, Sushi, and cappuccino.
We buy the first round at the bar. We can name “that Monty Python song”.
You’ll see us singing all the words at a Gogol Bordello concert.
You’ll see us surfing the waves on The Gold Coast in Queensland.
Day dream is over. My shift is over. I need to untuck that one part of my shirt and zip up my fly. I will, of course, verify that all my servers are running and that my cron jobs are a go. Then I’ll gather up my laptop, drink the rest of my Monster drink (green) and walk out. No one will say goodbye because I am, as usual, the last to leave. I’ll go to the bar and be that one guy who sits alone and pretends to be constantly texting. I’ll look but not touch. You never mess with a system in production.
First round is on me…