An oxymoron is defined much like it sounds – a complete contradiction of words. How could a senior, read “retired”, be a working one? Well, there seem to be more than a few in this retirement home. If you can make it down to the coffee shop by 8am any workday morning you will see them exiting in a great hurry, hobbling off to work. I too, belong to that class but luckily most of my work is done on the computer up here in our apartment. Today I was unlucky. A client insisted on seeing me on his premises.
I was picked up by a colleague and besides the meeting, we spent the rest of the day sitting in horrendous traffic jams, crawling along highways, cursing at the waste of time. Nothing helped. My colleague’s car, the latest French super-luxury model turned into a torture machine for my back as I sank deeper and deeper into the ultra-soft upholstery. It’s going to be a while before my bones regain their independence.
Putting myself in the client’s shoes I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking right now: “I called this meeting. The bright young engineer I talked to brought along another engineer, but this one looked way beyond his ‘sell-by date’. True, he asked some good questions and he clearly has years of experience – he should have at his age. I wonder if we should call in another company.”
Speaking from within my own shoes, all I can say, sonny, is that we old guys are good. You will receive a great job of work from a master of the art of engineering which you could never get from a youngster…
