I sit late into the night, tediously hacking away on my keyboard(s). My back hurts, my neck aches, I strain against the poor lighting conditions as my eyes attempt to compensate for the high contrast of the white screen against the darkened room, and my brows furl as I toggle back and forth between the Mac and the PC...or whatever other computer(s) or gadget(s) I have on my desk at the time. And I ask myself...

What's it all worth?

Is there some value to what I am doing? Does it matter that I get good at this stuff or even know it? But then I stop and think that maybe I am just doing this, because it gives me a reason to push ahead and keep going, to meet the next challenge. So what if it is in software - perhaps that is just a distraction to make sure I remain here to do what it is that I am really here to do.

Which is what?

Who knows, but I think about all the things I have been interested in and have known (or tried to know) and I realize how these things - as selfish as they may appear at times - have actually helped other people in my life. And it is not always about what I know, but also about what I do and how I conduct my life.

Computers kept me out of trouble as a youth. I was interested in computers before I really knew what they were; when they were portrayed in science fiction stories as some kind of artificial intelligence. I wanted to learn what computers actually were, and to learn as much as I could about them.

Computers were my vice. I never smoked or drank or took drugs. I can't really say why, except that it was a conscious decision I made at a very young age - perhaps as a challenge to myself - to stay away from that stuff. Perhaps I just got a good dose of "just say no!" Whatever the reason, computers filled my time and my head space when and where nothing else sufficed. Diving into computers truly took me away from whatever ills ailed me, but also provided enjoyment and satisfaction even in times when I was feeling good. I suppose in that context, the computer could have been considered a drug.

So how could this be a good thing? Wouldn't I be better off doing something else - doing something "more productive" than sitting all day long and deep into the night, staring at a computer screen? What would my life, and the lives of those around me, be like if I wasn't the person that I am, or if I wasn't staring at an electronic box all the time?

Well, let me see...

One friend of mine credits me for saving his life, because he was impressed that I wore my seat belt all the time, and shortly after he started immitating my behavior, some dumb ass in a Trans Am plowed into his car, knocking him unconscious. He claims he would have been lying dead in the street if it wasn't for his seat belt.

I never would have met my first girlfriend (whom I came --><-- this close to marrying), whom I met in the computer lab at Pima College in Tucson. We had some great times together, and I helped her with programming. Now she works as a developer, and I wonder how her life path would have been different had I not been there.

I never would have met all the interesting people that I have met over the years through computer bulletin board systems. I still have a nerf football and a volleyball with a bunch of signatures from people who attended a BBS picnic that I arranged once, years ago. I must have inspired them enough to compell them to give me not one, but two signed balls! (Hey, now - don't take that the wrong way).

I once had a rather sizable crowd of Mexican children gather around me down in Mexico when I flew a radio-controlled model airplane on the beach. They were so enthralled, like it was a magical thing. I often wonder if any of them were inspired to reach beyond their means because of that experience - and what if I hadn't known how to fly or thought to bring my plane to the beach with me?

I wouldn't have known all the good people I have known through the jobs I have had. I have never had a job that wasn't related to computers (except a paper route, and the short time I was a lab monitor in the electronics lab at Pima College - oh, and then there was the time I sold soft drinks at a football game - ack!). If I had never met my friend Jeff (and, subsequently, Fluffy), there probably wouldn't be a show called Hobby Hut or the awards that went with it. I also wouldn't have built a mock space ship or have learned as much about Delphi and Visual Basic (shudder) as I did. And I often wonder how his life would have been different, though I hope I've had a positive influence (sometimes I'm not so sure).

Without my influence, another friend of mine, Dave, would never have taken up RC night flying and thus may never have gone down the road that led to his many innovations that have now taken him to a place where he may now get some remuneration for some of his ideas.

I never would have met my current wife. We met online in Tucson, AZ. She was a struggling musician whose music partner just broke up with, and she needed to get on track with earning a living. Without me, she never would have gotten into computers, and thus would not be pulling down a six-figure income in user interface engineering today. Without me, she may not have had the insurance to pay for the life-saving surgery that changed her life a few years ago, and she certainly wouldn't be able to ride a bicycle today.

I know there are people out there who's lives I have influenced in one way or another, in ways I am not aware. People I don't even know, perhaps (like the woman who crossed a street in front of my car one day who changed my entire attitude with a simple, heart-warming smile) and people I don't remember. Our influence extends beyond our awareness, even if and when we are not trying. Just by being who we are, and sometimes just by being where we are, we can influence others. I could probably write a book about all the ways that the many people in my life have influenced me. And I would probably be very surprised to discover what some of those things have been if I really sat down and thought about it.

So, perhaps it doesn't matter that I spend most of my time with computers. Perhaps that is simply my path; the path that is supposed to put me where I need to be in order to be among the people who need me or who I need. Or both. Perhaps, in our struggles to discover our purpose in life, our life's purpose unfolds itself, regardless of our awareness of it. Like Forrest Gump might say, "computing is as computing does, Mr. Hubbard."

Perhaps the trick is to stop trying to make something out of life and just let life make something out of me.