A reason, a belief, a thought. Most endeavors are undertaken as a result of one of these three codicils. Mine is a simple one. See, there was this thing called college. In college, they want you to make up your mind about what you want to do with the rest of your life. For me, it was uncharted territory and I could not have been more lost than someone looking for Constantinople; or is it Istanbul?
I was a first generation college kid. My parents (well, the ones that raised me anyway) hadn't gone. The closest my mother came to college was playing with me as a little boy in the park in front of the school I would eventually graduate from. She wanted me to go there because, in her mind, it was the finest school in the land. So, when it was time to pick a school there it was and sure enough they (the school) agreed with my mom that it would be a good idea to have me enroll in the fall. Yes, I was excited, no, this isn't ground breaking stuff. Who doesn't get excited about acceptance or going to college or getting to see if Animal House, PCU, and Old School are accurate portrayals of college life? Hell, that was the easy part.
The difficulty arose in deciding what I wanted to pursue. English and History were my gut reactions to major selection. I enjoyed both classes in High School and got A's and B's (grammatical snafus aside which you will have to pardon given my eventual selection) without much effort. Really though, those classes were easy. They test you on memorization and interpretation. Who wrote the Declaration? Why was Napoleon so pissed off? What was the civil war really about? Well, you just told me Mr. Teacher. I can regurgitate what you told me like Bluto can chug a beer. No problem. Easy choice. Money in the bank, right?
Well, what did give me hell in high school? What gives most people hell in high school? No, not acne (had that). Making the team? (I was a three sport letterman, though I had a hand in prematurely ending two of our seasons...) Girls? ("Dude, don't worry, I'll get you a date for the dance"-- Good friend.) Sadly, what kept me up most nights was math. Pre-Cal, Algebra II, AP Calculus (A and B no less. I still wonder how I ended up with a B; which makes the next four years of my life incomprehensible) were all classes i struggled mightily with. Naturally, I thought this struggle would be the best place to find inspiration for my major declaration. Well that and a gentle nudge or three from my mom. Eureka! Mechanical Engineering!!
Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I had some propensity for assembling furniture and bicycles so clearly, if I could get past the math I could do well in industry, right? Coincidentally, this is where the coercion from my Mother comes in to play. She thought I could do that, be done in four years, and then start working and making a nice salary and live the American Dream. After all, that's every mother's fantasy, right? Her job would be done and she could die with a smile on her face. Again, like I said, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Up to this point, you might have been asking yourself, "Self, what is the point of this blog?" The point, my dear reader, is to re acclimate myself with the quill (or the keyboard as the case may be). See, I always joked that after college I would take a few years, like Jules, to just walk the earth and get in to adventures like Caine from Kung Fu. In a round about way, I've done that. Now, I want to write about those adventures. Basically, this will be an epic Bill Simmonsesque retro diary. Also, it will let me know if maybe I should just keep the calculator in my hand and not worry so much about wondering if I made the right call back in College. (you may have an answer already too!)
As for the title of the blog, well, he's my favorite and has always been my inspiration when writing anything. And no, I'm not pretentious enough to think I can get anywhere close to Mr. Fitzgerald. Should you have any qualms about that statement, then just think of the Simpson's episode where Homer tries to come up with as many inventions as Thomas Edison and everything should be readily evident.
Warmest Regards,
G.
