We've been doing a strange dance over the last year. It always was that way for me at the outpost. Sometimes the most likely of partners just can't find the rhythm. As a young pup, my mother attempted to turn me from a outdoorsman into someone that the most respectable of clubs would have as a member. My tutor, misunderstanding my lack of desire with an inability to perform to her standards, taught me something quite valuable: the Foxtrot was created by a man unable to find partners capable of the two-step. In life, when one is not able to perform to expectations, one must change the expectations or find them changed for him.

This is my problem with the outpost. I harbor expectations for the place that others cannot meet - either because of their ability or their desire. I have seen it as the Alpha, a seed so full of potential but that requires the proper nurturing to grow - a place to deliver ideas for testing before giving them to the world, a place where information is shared whether it is critical or not. Others seem to look at it as a beta, released to the wilds filled with bugs and features frozen. I have never changed my expectations and saw no need to. I was doing the two-step while everyone else was dancing the foxtrot. I was working on the next alpha while everyone else was stuck in beta. I would have found unforgivable just a year or so ago. I can forgive you for this, today.

I have come to understand the value of having associates working on different releases of the same software. This realization was a long time coming and many conflicts ensued. Some of them may have been my fault. Watching so many of those that we knew and respected, if not loved, succumb to the dangers of this world opened my eyes. I held onto an anger, a resentment, for so many of you who entered our outpost while so many others departed. I see so many suffering from Lima syndrome, and, like them, my sympathy and respect for you has begun to take overtake that resentment and anger. I no longer have the desire for such emotion. I have changed my tune.

You might say that my heart has softened like a canned Lima bean warmed and smothered in butter.

Gone is Oscar - the grouchy old man ready to pick a fight over a perceived lack of cookies being thrown his way. You might say that's my gift to you - a desire to give and not take cookies. Of course, as marie liked to joke, most of my food has been hanging out in my bunker for eight years now. I can assure you, that is not the case. I restock it regularly as any good survivalist would. As you all should.

If there is anything that we have all learned, it is that danger is lurking just around that corner. Nobody is safe. Not you. Not me. Not the men in Uniform. We have to take our precautions. We have to build our bunkers and we have to keep them stocked.

We have to realize that we need to change our expectations if we are going to survive in this world. When you dance, you have to trust your partner. You have to know that they are dancing to the same tune. And, if they can't hack it, it's time to change the music. It is time to stop trying to Tango if all you can do is the foxtrot.