A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...

A while back I was inspired to write a bit about my life. This is what sort of spurred me on to create this blog. I sometimes feel torn about posting certain things, often wondering if it is worth reading or if it will cause me to be ridiculed, pitied, or laughed at, so it was tucked away...

Today I was digging through some old files and I came across that original text. It is rough and unfinished, as well as too long to post in one blog. However, I think it has some redeeming factors to it and thought maybe I could post it in a series, a la Charles Dickens, so here it is.


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...



Part I:

It seems strange now when I look back on it.

There I was, a fresh faced 18 year old kid. I knew so many things about the world. I knew that I was going to marry my high school sweet heart. I knew I was going to graduate from college in four years. I knew I would have a successful career as a Mechanical Engineer, and that money would never be a problem for me from that point forward. Jobs were plentiful and the economy was strong, so I knew there were easy times ahead. The promise of a house with a picket fence, a beautiful wife, 2.3 kids and a dog was just waiting to be handed to me. I had the whole world figured out. What could possibly go wrong?

It all started when I was 16. I was just coming out of my shell when one fateful summer I joined a friend of mine on a trip to Cedar Point, an amusement park in Ohio. We were in line for an old wooden coaster called the Blue Streak when I met her. She was bubbly and had a big smile, I was hooked.

After talking a bit we discovered that we lived a mere twenty minutes from each other back in MI. We exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways, not knowing if we would ever meet again. Four years later, I was ending our engagement and striking out on my own…but I am getting ahead of myself.

Let’s back track to the early teen years. When I was coming up through the ranks in school, I had demonstrated a knack for math and science. I was by no means a genius, but it seemed to come naturally to me. In middle school I was chosen to be on our math and science Olympiad team, and we competed in a contest to build an egg catching device. Everyone was excited about my achievements, and it was largely assumed that I would go on to college and study some sort of science discipline.

I was sure that was the right path for me, but I was a relatively naive and sheltered young man. How can one be expected to plot their future at such an inexperienced and impressionable age? There were good people along the way who helped me out, and I think I ultimately made the right choice, but I didn’t really have a clue back then. I chose to attend Western Michigan University, with designs on becoming a Mechanical Engineer. It sure didn’t hurt that someone I met two years before in Ohio had also chosen WMU.

Strangely enough I had no idea what a Mechanical Engineer did, yet I was pretty convinced that was what I was going to be. After all, everyone always said I was good at figuring out how things work. I always assumed an ME got to build things with their hands. You know, erector set play time that eventually ended up creating a new machine design that would revolutionize production and change the world as we know it. Turns out, it doesn't quite work like that.

I finished school; although it was nothing like I knew it would be ten years ago. I have a Bachelors degree in Business Administration, focusing on Computer Information Systems. What does that mean? Well, it is nothing remotely close to an ME. Turns out, Engineers don't really build things. They theorize, test, suggest and work in a virtual world. Not for me. Plus, I had become depressed, withdrawn from my academics, and I was no longer willing to put in the time to learn how to calculate the definite integral (the area under the curve) of the trajectory path created when someone throws a rock off of a cliff.

Menagarie: Part Deux

It has been a while since the mood has struck me to ramble. I often find myself coming across a topic that I might "burn" on, and discarding it. In my mind I am always my toughest critic, and I compare my potential new post to the most responded to blogs of the past and it never seems to stack up. I guess I should stop worrying and just write. This is why I do not work for the Times or something...

I also noticed a trend to worry about spelling/grammar/accuracy. Many of my ramblings deal with others inability to find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flash light. Now I fret over every line I type and it takes way too long to put out a simple article. Then, inevitably I post what I think is a polished rant that has been gone over for hours, only to notice a glaring mistake after I click "Publish Post". Oh well, I guess it is what it is, and my opening disclaimer for this blog is that I am not an expert. Never claimed to be. I try to follow the proverb of, "Don't throw stones if you live in a glass house", but it is just too much fun to point out things like, "Are credit card machine is broken and We apologize for that!" So, my grammar is broken, and I apologize for that.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone out there is still reading what I ramble (this is not a shameless attempt to get you to write me, just an observation). Then, I will pass someone randomly in the hall at work or hear someone mention my blog to someone else and it reminds me that people are watching. Facebook is the same way. I often run into a co-worker or friend on campus that I don't see that often who will comment on some aspect of my private life that I know I have not spoken to them about. It will take a second, then it will hit me. They see the pictures online. So, remember, someone is always watching.

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=cr-socialnetowrking040709&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

In that vein, I rambled a while back about the use of Facebook as a discovery tool when interviewing a potential employee. Now it seems that this technique has been taken to the next level. Charles Robinson of Yahoo Sports reports that NFL teams have taken to setting up fake profiles and befriending unsuspecting draft hopefuls in an effort to get a one of a kind in depth look into the private personal life of the young man they are about to invest millions in. I am a bit surprised at the fake profile tactic, seems a bit underhanded to me, but I don't blame them for wanting to protect their investments. Also, if the player is dumb enough to post a picture of himself with a spread of money and drugs, well then I have no sympathy for him. The moral of this story? Don't put anything on the web you would not bring to a job interview.

Observation: A computer is like a child. I am learning Linux (an operating system such as Windows or Mac) I am amazed at how often I forget that a computer is not capable of inferring intent from your command. I type something that makes sense to me, looking at the object I am referring to right in front of me on the screen. For some reason I am amazed that the computer has no idea what I mean! Then I realize, you have to be very explicit. This reminds me of something a parent would feel when asking a child to do something. How often has a parent given what they thought were reasonable instructions to a child such as load the washing machine? Later the parent enters the laundry room to find a full washer of dry, dirty clothes. If you do not specify to the child that you intend for them to add detergent and start the spin cycle you should be prepared for getting exactly what you asked for. I remember once when my brother and I were younger, my dad told us to go "hop" in the truck and he would be along shortly. When he arrived at his drivers door he noticed the vehicle bouncing wildly. As he stuck his head inside he found us complying to his request, literally hoping up and down in the truck. Priceless...

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