My first public meeting

My name is David, and have joint problems...

I'm a little uncomfortable standing up here, in front of you kind folks. But I guess that's the point of this meeting. So, um, where do I start?

Okay, well. I've been sitting in front of computer since I was twelve. Heck, I hacked my first telco at thirteen. I remember yelling out to my mom in excitement. It was nothing spectacular—an unchanged default password—but I had to tell somebody. She came over and all she did was comment on how bad my posture was... "boy, you need to take breaks". What gives, mom?

But she was right.

I'm twenty-eight now. Dang, that's almost thirty. I'm aching already. I hear that around 40 my under arms will sag, let alone other parts. That scares the hell out of me.

Anyway, I suffer... like so many of you... with throbbing, inflammation, and stiffness. It's only debilitating when the stiffness sets in. I can't even play Guitar Hero because my joints will be jacked up for four days and it sucks. So I do my thing and stay away from pain killers that'll mess with my head. Ibuprofen is my life mate, but occasionally he brings his friend Naproxen over and I can only hang out with that guy in doses.

So why am I here? Because, even if it doesn't come, I feel like I can see the end of being able to do what I love. It feels like I've got about five years left of fine, detailed work in these hands... then I'll have to turn into Matisse and start cutting shapes out of cardboard. I guess that worked for him, but I'm not sure how I'll handle it.

Now, don't take me coming up here and spouting off as complaining. I'm lucky to have contributed to many fine people and projects. These hands and arms are slowly building a future for my family. Now I have to figure out how to prolong the process with preventative measures. You know, a calculated measure of sorts. So why is adopting a new routine so difficult?

I guess it doesn't help that I've jumped into tattooing with a 90 pound machine. But I'll figure something out. Anyway, thanks for listening.