Brett Bim

A Life in Pixel and Thought

Software

I write software for a living. I solve problems in code because it's fun.

Fitness

I'm CrossFit Level I certified and have been doing CrossFit since 2008. I believe in doing hard physical activity as a way to discover what is physically possible.

The Written Word

Since the fifth grade, writing has been part of my blood. Writing is how I discover what I think through blogs, journals and stories.


A Synopsis


I've been a software developer for the past 11 years. I have strong opinions quietly voiced about testing, continuous integration, design patterns and communications amongst team members. I believe in constant improvement and I'm frustrated by those who don't. I'm almost entirely self-taught. Most of my code lives on GitHub. I prefer dynamic to static languages. In my day job, I write C#, Ruby and Javascript. I'm a comfortable novice in Python. I've built a fairly significant Rails app, The Sports Pool Hub.. I love to create things in code on teams of exciting people.

For as long as I can remember, I've been a writer. I wrote my first story in 5th grade, a bloody murder mystery complete with illustrations much to my teachers' (and I'm sure my parents') dismay. Showing flashes of an overwrought creativity even then, I went out of my way to find out what the word murder was in Spanish so that my title had panache. I have two blogs where I write with semi-regular frequency. An Experiment In Scotch started as just that and continues as an outlet for all things not specifically related to sports or technology. Mental Pandiculation is my tech blog where I write things so I can remember them next time I have to fix the same thing.

MAN IS CONDEMNED TO BE FREE


Because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does -- Jean-Paul Sartre



FICTION



The first time I made this trip, my kid sis­ter was grad­u­at­ing from Tulane in the win­ter of 1988. The Vir­ginia hills were cov­ered in snow like pow­dered sugar on a fun­nel cake, light and airy and sub­ject to cover your entire face and clothes. Horses and cat­tle stood in groups, noses fac­ing south away from the wind. In the after­noon gloom, lights flick­ered in farm­houses. As the Cres­cent hur­tled down the tracks, I imag­ined the life of the peo­ple on those farms in a win­ter like this, long and cold. So dif­fer­ent from my life in the City with the con­stant action and activ­ity. Look­ing out the win­dow, it seemed like noth­ing moved here, like noth­ing had moved in six months or six years. There was a still­ness to the place that gave my rest­less heart no small anx­i­ety. The snow was white, not the dirty slush that stood for months on the north side of build­ings in New York. The train passed over a river still unfrozen and flow­ing freely. I thought about my sis­ter and tomorrow’s cel­e­bra­tion. It had been hard for her after I left and Dad died. Every Sun­day she went to see Mom and lis­ten to the ram­bling crazi­ness that inhab­ited her mind. Kelsey would call me after­wards, say­ing I should call Mom, maybe even visit. It wasn’t some­thing I could do and we both knew it. She was always the better human being.

On this trip though, it’s spring and the farms are alive with activ­ity. A trac­tor sows the fall’s bounty in a black, fer­tile field. Cat­tle amble through hay up to their bel­lies, con­tented. On many farms, fruit trees bloom pink and white and I imag­ine I can smell the nec­tar attract­ing bees from miles away. Spring is that moment of promise for what may be in the future. The north­ern Vir­ginia Pied­mont has many orchards, acres and acres of apple and peach trees aglow with flow­ers this time of year. As the train moves far­ther south into North Car­olina, the ter­roir changes. The bucolic farms of Vir­ginia give way to a more indus­trial farm, often filled with tobacco or cot­ton. The far­ther south we go, the more hard­scrab­ble and dif­fi­cult life seems to become. Farm­houses look ran­sacked occa­sion­ally with cars parked in blocks out front, chick­ens and goats run­ning through the yards and half naked kids running crazy through the yard.

The train is moving too fast this trip towards a future I don’t want to reach.

BORN IN TEXAS


1316 Valley Stream Drive, Wylie

214-500-5128

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THANKS FOR VISITING




Contact Information

1316 Valley Stream Drive, Wylie TX
(214) 500-5128
brettbim@gmail.com
@brettbim

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