I don’t know when or how it started, but the drive to customize and brag about the results has been with humans long before I was born. Today we usually call it a hobby, something that has become increasingly important to me in my retirement. Age, improved common sense, and a limited income have conspired to narrow my available options more than I’d like to admit.

My father customized his hotrod by placing a spark plug on the tailpipe to shoot flames from the exhaust when he activated it. Emission control laws, common sense, and lack of a hotrod ruled that out immediately, probably for the best, though it still sounds like fun. Of course, in my generation, it was practically a rite of passage for male teenagers to rebuild and soup up their car. Three deuces was definitely not a poker hand. Maybe it was lying on my back with a Plymouth 4-speed transmission on my chest while trying to bolt it in place that convinced me electronics might be a better hobby.

This positioned me well when home computers first came out. I was already moving in that direction. Building and using computers kept me occupied for 40 years, and truth be told, I loved every minute of it. Last year, when I bought a new Dell for my wife on our anniversary, it was an obvious admission on my part that the shine had finally worn off my hobby. That realization landed a little harder than I expected.

Cost is certainly a factor. Computer prices have skyrocketed. When I bought my wife’s Dell, I also bought an 8-terabyte drive for backup. At that time, the drive was $109. Less than a year later, thanks to Trump economics and data center demand, that same drive is now a dizzying $239. Forget investing in oil; I should have purchased hard drives to sell on eBay. I’d probably be writing this from my yacht instead of my desk.

To be honest, the signs were already there. Most people have no need for a computer. I wrote at least half of this post on a tablet. There’s also our phones. Not content to replace our dedicated cameras, the phones are starting to take over our computer functions as well. Stick on a Bluetooth keyboard, add a USB-C display, and suddenly your “computer” fits in your pocket, and probably costs less than your desktop. Considering the difference in software costs, you’re well ahead of the game.

There’s no doubt that the home computer hobbyist is becoming an endangered species. Google, Microsoft, and Amazon all offer free storage for your pictures. Limited, of course, ever notice how the size of your pictures has increased tenfold while the size of free storage has stayed exactly the same? Funny how that works. Almost like they’ve thought this through.

So much for computers as a hobby. Fortunately, my 3D printer provided a new outlet for my inherent desire to soup up my technology. A new PINDA, a heated print bed, an enclosure, multimaterial printing, all those exotic filaments to try, times were good. Really good. Oops, all those things are becoming standard on today’s printers. Worse, the price has come down and reliability has gone up to the point that almost anyone interested in the hobby can have a well-featured printer. How can I brag about my prints when everyone has great 3D printers? It’s very hard to feel like a pioneer when the wagon trail has turned into a freeway.

I love my CNC and my laser etcher, but there’s only so much I can do with those. If I want to put a bigger motor on my CNC, I’ll need to rewire my workshop, and while great fun to play with, my laser etcher doesn’t need an upgrade. Maybe a fire extinguisher considering yesterday’s results but barring the occasional fire, it’s a complete package as is.  It just needs a job, and preferably one that doesn’t involve me making yet another birdhouse. Even the birds are starting to complain about overdevelopment.

My wife suggests I take up gardening. Just think of all the things I could make for HER garden. My gardening inclinations died back in the 60s when Edmund Scientific Supplies was selling irradiated bean sprouts for science projects. Mine chose to commit suicide by sabotaging the bottom of their container rather than be part of my world domination plans. I’ve never gotten over the rejection, and frankly, I’m not sure I’m ready to risk that kind of emotional trauma again.

Venn suggests I spend more time on her education. I suspect that’s only to garner more treats. True, she is the best-trained dog I’ve ever had, sit, stay, down, come, roll over, shake, high five, even heel. That is, until something more interesting comes along, like a butterfly. It doesn’t help that she thinks fetch is stupid. If I’m going to keep throwing that ball away, who is she to argue? Honestly, she may have a point.

That sums up my retirement in a nutshell. I can’t afford to upgrade my computer, and really, until quantum computing comes out, the industry has hit the point of diminishing returns. My 3D printer is already doing everything I ask it to. We already have seven birdhouses and I don’t want to start a business with my CNC or laser etcher. My desire for gardening was snuffed out when my plants cut their way out of the bottom of their planter in their obvious attempt to commit suicide, and unless I have treats in my pocket, I’m far less interesting than last night’s scent trail left by the rabbits. There’s something humbling about losing a popularity contest to a rabbit.

I’m down to one last option. You’re reading this because once again I’m turning to writing as a possible outlet for my creative urges. I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, no guarantees, but I’ll do my best.

---

And of course, today’s song from Songer… Retired and Unplugged

© 2026, Byron Seastrunk. All rights reserved.