Dad and sticks

I talked to my dad yesterday. He'd wanted to check on me, see how I was doing, ect. The usual father stuff.

We talked a bit about my job; I told him that I wasn't sure how long I could work the computer jobs. He said that he wished I could go back to school. I'm kind of torn on that topic. I got forced into college by him, to a large degree. I was perfectly happy to go to college, but I wanted to go to a community college, take a couple of years to figure out what I wanted out of a career, what really interested me. Test the waters a bit.

Up until that point in my life, I'd really only had two careers I'd wanted: either I was going to be a vet, or I was going to be an astronaut. Ambitious? You bet. I’m crazy that way. Hell, I’m just crazy.

At around 16, I discovered that I fell short of the height requirements to actually be a mission specialist or pilot. It’s very possible that standard has changed, but in its way, it was for the best – while it was what I wanted to do for a very long time, it’s also one of the most competitive fields out there. You have to be the *best* and I’m not sure if I would have cut it.

I’d also decided that I wasn’t sure I could deal with being a vet, either. The thought of “helping animals” sure seemed good in theory, but the reality was that I knew I’d have people who *could* save their animals, but didn’t want to bother and would just have them put down. I didn’t want to have to put animals to sleep that didn’t have to be, but the truth of it was, it would be part of the job. It isn’t suffering of the animals that would have killed me, but the attitudes of some pet owners. I know that I’d also want to do the right thing, I’d want to help the animals, but I’d always have to be considering things like what they could pay me to do, what they could afford, and I’d be one of those totally broke people because I’d give everyone a break.

My dad refused to let me go to a community college (and as he was paying, I was a bit trapped in the situation), and instead pushed me towards the college he went to. I know he meant well, but I’m not a university type of person. Put me in a room full of 300 people? I’m going to check right out. Or, at least, I did at the time (I’m less distractible these days).

I had no idea what to study, so I headed for computers. It was something I understood already to a degree. Predictably, I dropped out after only a year. I didn’t love it. I didn’t love any of it.

I explained a lot of this to my dad, that I just didn’t know *what* to study at the time. He said that I could have got any degree, even a liberal arts degree. I wanted to laugh – he told me back then, 10 years ago, that I couldn’t be a liberal arts major because I’d never make any money. I reminded him of that.

He said, “Sometimes it’s just about the experience.”

I wanted to reach through the phone and smack him with a stick.