Being v5.1 and counting

A guy’s mind tends to wander when he’s lying around tired, coughing and being miserable trying to get over a cold. (Maybe non-guys have the same experience, but that’s just an educated guess.)

In my case, after hanging around software engineers for years on end, I started wondering if version numbers might be usefully applied to anything other than software and apps and other inanimate things.

Vegetables, frozen pizzas, woodworking tools? Maybe not.

Bourbon, beer, wine? I can see that.

Their sour v2.1.8 was excellent. What the hell happened?

How about people? I can see that, too.

Let’s say your early years were v1.1 to v1.n – covering your Iowa childhood through high school. Maybe v2.* encompassed college follies interrupted by active duty and back to school for a degree and starting your first newspaper job.

The next major upgrade – v3.1 et seq. – might have been, oh, from your wedding day through raising children, working some more and some more and some more until the kids left you behind.

Then imagine that v4.* covered a complete change of scenery and new careers for both you and your better half.

You get the idea. It could happen like that.

Carry on, my friends.

B.J. v5.1