We all know the Tech Guy: dexterity on computer keyboard like Mozart’s on piano; non-existent people skills, and — well, he’s a guy. Ann Palmer, proprietor of TechnoSense Consulting, fits exactly one-third of that stereotype. Sociologists might argue whether being female has contributed to her human touch, but that touch has undoubtedly paved her career path.

Raised in Ferndale, Michigan, Ann entered the University of Michigan as a math major in 1964 but soon switched to “communications science”: computer science. Unlike most of her fellow techies, however, Ann had “forced herself” to take Humanities classes, improving her ability to practice real, human communication.

Ann graduated in 1968 and headed to San Francisco, then even further west to visit her sister Virginia on Oahu—and stayed there. After a “beach bum” interlude, Ann got a job at a company which did computing jobs for customers. In charge of the systems programmers, Ann says, “I was good at what I did, so I ended up doing some fun stuff”—like writing cutting-edge programs for bank terminals.

But after seven years (and “tired of dating beach bums or divorced guys”), Ann was ready for a career change, so she followed the cutting-edge computer work happening on the mainland. After a stop on Lopez, where she and Virginia had bought some land, Ann began job-hunting and moved to Marin County. A year later, she was recruited to work for Pacific Telephone, where her people skills vaulted her to the fore. Ann was promoted to head all PacTel’s system programmers, eventually managing a staff of 50. “I came from a background of running computers as a service,” Ann says. “I was the only manager with that outlook. Everyone else, it was all about ‘mine—my turf, my people…’ It drove me crazy.”

In 1977, Ann met Chuck McCarty, a medic and aikido enthusiast, and married him in 1981. Around then, Ann bought a Commodore Vic 20, one of the first affordable computers. “It would keep me up till the wee hours, ’cause it was fun,” Ann remembers. Creating something from nothing, like composing music, Ann’s “fun” turned into developing practical programs for things like mailing lists and labels. Unsurprisingly, she discovered a demand. Thus began her venture into the “wild and crazy” world of software business.

Ann named her software baby TOTL Software (Chuck’s idea; it stands for “Tuna Of The Land”). TOTL took off. In their first year, she and Chuck went from packaging software in their living room to a staff of 10, and a half-million dollars in business.

But all too soon, giants like Simon and Schuster moved in, and TOTL was

outcompeted. “We were having too much fun to sell the company,” Ann muses, acknowledging how life might have differed had they cashed in then. Within months, TOTL’s products were scooped, its value dropped, and Ann and Chuck were back to packaging at home. Lacking funds and energy to convert to IBM PC—which might have allowed TOTL to compete—they decided to walk away… to Lopez. Here they continued TOTL for a year and a half before it “dried up.” But Ann is proud that some customers continued using her software for another decade.

Lopez offered no career, however, so in 1986 she got a job in Kirkland with an Atlanta-based company, developing Windows-like software for large plants. But the commute was brutal, especially after the arrival of baby Kelley. Eventually, Ann talked her company into giving her a computer to work from home. “So Kelley grew up sitting on my lap, playing with the computer,” she laughs. In 1994, the company closed its Kirkland office. They invited Ann to stay, but this meant regular flights to Atlanta, without Kelley. Ann found this life untenable. Her marriage dissolved, and she and Kelley moved to Seattle.

The next eight years were challenging, working as a single mom for several small employers and involving herself in many startups. “I never hit the big time,” Ann says. “Always a case of wrong place, wrong time. But I had a lot of fun.” In 1996, Ann’s mother had a stroke, and Ann added caregiving to her work portfolio.

“But Lopez was always home,” says Ann, and when Kelley started high school, they moved back. Ann found stress-free contract work for the Chamber of Commerce, and quickly found her own clients.

Now, with Kelley grown, Ann wonders, “Should I retire? People still pay me to do stuff. And my clients are my friends.” In 2008, Ann found a happy medium: road trips. She bought a ’91 Toyota RV, packed up her dog Sunna and set out to discover America. The first trip lasted a month; the next, six weeks. Her latest took nearly five months, supporting clients from the road. Ann revels in her freedom. She has a community of RVer friends, but when traveling, she says, “I’m not the least bit interested in staying in the same place. I’m an explorer.”