Over the Edge
“We are on the edge of change comparable to the rise of human life on Earth.” Vernor Vinge, The Coming Technological Singularity
My dad told very few stories during our childhood, but one of my favorites went like this:
A wealthy Frenchman (all Dad’s stories were set in France where he grew up) lived in a mansion at the top of a mountain. Needing to hire a new driver, he scheduled an interview with the three best chauffeurs in the province.
“The road to my villa is steep and narrow,” he said to the first. “How close can you drive to the edge of the road without going over?”
“Monsieur, je puis conduire sans risque a moins de douze centimètres par le bord,” the driver replied.
I think this is actually why Dad told the stories—so he could throw in his little-used but still perfect foreign language skills. But since he never taught us a word of French, he explained that the first driver could safely drive within about six inches of the edge.
Given the same question, the second driver bragged that he could easily drive within three inches of the edge, and had done so on many occasions.
The third driver looked a little sheepish (Dad loved that word) at this point but the man encouraged him to give his answer.
“I am sorry, Monsieur, but I don’t know how close I can drive to the edge. I have never tried to get close.”
“Then you are my new driver,” the wealthy man announced.
I always thought the story had something more to do with Dad’s outlook on life than it did with drivers ed. While his work involved cutting-edge technologies as an electronic engineer, at home he seemed to revel in snowball fights, model trains, and story time. If asked to describe the “next big thing,” he might have imagined the ideal drip-coffee device for his demitasse cups.
The digital age is enamored with the next feature release, but life is more than a series of version upgrades. A product or an app can quickly become obsolete, but not my wife, my friends, my dreams, or my faith. I think my dad understood something that gets missed in our attention-deficit culture. He knew how to go deep. He knew how to focus on intricacies and nuances, not just the quick-start instructions to life. He knew how to stop and enjoy what was already within reach.
Yes, I love to explore new directions and occasionally fall off the edge of my comfort zone. But I’m reminded that I need to get past the free-trial stage and fully embrace things that are right in front of me. I need to spend a little less time looking for what’s new out there and instead look at what’s real right here.
I like the edge as much as the next guy, but sometimes the center gets an undeserved bad rap.
