The first time I’d read Heinlein’s Time Enough for Love was in High School. About 30 years ago. One line from the book that seemed most meaningful that, in varying forms, stuck with me throughout the years was on specialization.
Rather, it wasn’t directly from the story itself, but it was a sub-story within the story — from the section, “Excerpts from the Notebooks of Lazarus Long”. Lazarus Long, is, of course, the’s book’s the kilt-clad protagonist.
His notebooks contained wise sayings, recommendations, cautions, realizations, what have you.
One of those excerpts from his fictitious notebooks was this:
A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”
Heinlein, Time Enough for Love
For a long time, I had commented that somebody must learn of and actually do each one of those varied tasks throughout life.
Save one. That last.
Not very convenient — you won’t witness your own death.
But it wasn’t until quite recently that I realized that I had, in fact, achieved every single one of those diverse skills as of December nearly three years ago. In fairness, whether it was “gallant” is open to interpretation — so, die gallantly, provisionally.
I’ll take it.
Oh, also:
Yeah, I’ve always been the person who did things out of the natural order.
the rest of me 