I have always loved getting behind the scenes; it is likely that others feel the same – I don’t know.
I was reflecting on this last week, in relation to technology; I think it was shortly after unscrewing my son’s bass guitar and peering inside at the (broken) wire (subsequently, successfully soldered by grandfather) that the thought came to me.
When I was young, this was something I loved – taking to bits, disassembling, particularly electrical items – TVs, radios, puzzles and games.
This is not to say I knew what I was doing – I am not and never have been particularly technical – I never understood what I was looking-at, it was more the taking apart and looking rather than the subsequent fiddling.
This is perhaps one of the many reasons I did not become a surgeon.
The theory has always ranked more highly in my estimation than the practice.
The point for me was not my ineptitude at practical matters, more my thoughts that the fiddling I got up to 40-odd years ago is no longer a meaningful option to my children.
You can’t readily take apart a Samsung, iPhone or X-box, and, if you did, you would likely find inside just tiny circuits that are equally inaccessible.
The innards of my TV, Sat-Nav or laptop are as unlikely to convey a story.
Transistors, vacuum tubes and cathode rays all hold a certain mystique – a gateway to something;
What will this loss or change mean to my children?
How will tomorrow differ mechanistically, disruptively, from today?
Time will tell. There are likely to be other insides they will find, other minutiae to pass the time.
I will always find a home at the bottom of my garden, under the rocks and rubble, examining, investigating the beetles and grubs as they wriggle in the earth.
That is me. Today, tomorrow, is different.