Now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the "old" code from either a functional or performance standpoint; it basically boiled down to style. Alas, for all the wrong reasons--what future maintainers of this code might think heading the list--I "modernised" the syntax. That's bad for two distinct reasons:
1.) I'm basically lying to myself about myself. I could write a whole blog about how not cringing at your old code is a sign that you've stagnated. Doubtless, that's been done many times over. So I won't. (Though, for all I know, I already have. I'm a little hazy on most of this blog's early history, truth be told.)
2.) That change had to be tested to make sure I didn't introduce any errors or other unintended side effects into the code. That wastes budget and time.
Don't get me wrong: I believe in making code as easy as possible to skim. That's no more than professional courtesy to future maintainers of that code...who will probably look an awful lot like a slightly greyer version of me. Who, by the bye, should be old enough to appreciate what a little salt-and-pepper and laugh-lines around the eyes can add. (Case in point--George Clooney. A decade ago, I rolled my eyes at all the swooning. Now? Hawt.) In code, it's a signal that this isn't greenfield work; that's a valuable insight.
One more thought: Trying to disguise the age of a code-base isn't doing newer programmers any favours, either. The digital equivalent of a As-I-am-now-so-shall-you-be memento mori is good for perspective. In our trade, that lesson's better internalised sooner than later.
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
- Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., The Last Leaf
