From the Editor’s Desk: Good (Premium)

Twice this past week, I've experienced a familiar out-of-body sensation that used to occur much more frequently in my travel-heavy pre-pandemic days. Lying in bed in the dark of the early morning, I heard the instantly recognizable sound of a trash bin being rolled across asphalt. That sound came from my right, which made sense, given how our bed in Pennsylvania is positioned and where our bedroom is. It was just one of our neighbors putting out the trash, a normal and uninteresting event.

Except that it kept going. For some reason, the rolling trash bin sound didn't stop. This was curious to my addled brain. There are only four condos--or townhouses, or whatever they are--in the area in which we live, and the distance from the garage where these bins are stored to the front of the property where they're later collected is perhaps 25 or 30 feet. What the heck was one of our neighbors doing? It was like they were rolling the bin around in circles. Why would they do that? And why so early?

The confusion was enough to wake me up more fully. I opened my eyes, but it was dark. The sound continued. Otherwise, everything seemed normal enough. And then I finally realized the problem. I wasn't in Pennsylvania. I was in Mexico City. And the sound I was hearing was continuing because it's a daily ritual that was then recurring all over this city in which workers roll trash bins out of their storage areas--in our case, a place attached to the local park--and head out on their routes, keeping the city clean. The sound continued because this person had a long way to go, city blocks worth, I assume. And it's as normal a sound here as it is in Pennsylvania. It just lasts longer, and happens every day, not once a week.

And so I was fully awake. And there was nothing to do but get up, get dressed, and make some coffee. It was all good, but this second early morning wake-up in the past week got me thinking. Thinking about how much has changed.

And it's been quite the decade. I left my job at Penton at the end of 2014 after higher-ups laid off everyone but me and one other person, and I joined George at BWW Media to launch Thurrott.com in January 2015. In 2017, we moved to Pennsylvania after spending the previous 18 years--and most of our lives--living outside Boston. In 2020, the global pandemic changed everyone's lives, of course, but the most notable event for us that year was my daughter being robbed of having a prom and a proper graduation from high school. Our son graduated from college in May 2021, and then we visited Mexico City for the first time. After a few more trips there, we decided to buy an apartment in early 2022. In 2023, we sold our house in Pennsylvania and downsized, and George handed Thurrott.com over to me, making me a small business owner. And in less than two months, in late 2024, our daughter will graduate from college, though she's not done with school quite yet given her post-graduate plans.

There's more, of course...