Who am I, where have I been, and what have I done?
Fair questions for anyone reading this journal, and as it happens, that conveniently asked hypothetical question allows me to hold forth on my absolute favorite subject: me.
Who am I? Physically I'm in my mid-50s (which we know from my first entry in this journal), look 5 - 8 years younger than that, for as long as I don't let any facial hair stay on my chin - it's gray. So far it's my only gray hair, but my sideburns look as if they'd like to get in the game too. I don't mind that very much - I've never considered myself vain, which is a good thing because I have also never considered myself to be attractive. Skinny, big nose, eyes too close together, and no cleft in my chin. Not quite Quasimodo, by a long stretch, but not Robert Redford either. Although having seen a recent picture of him, that's not the comparison it used to be.
Moving past the outer traits and more into the personal, I consider myself to be the funniest person I've ever met, and from that claim you may also infer that I have quite a bit of ego.
You wouldn't be wrong about that.
I also consider myself to be an awkward mix of really intelligent and brutally stupid, depending on the nature of whatever it is I'm trying to figure out or understand. My strengths appear to be in thinking logically and having a little quicker insight into how disparate things can be made to fit and work together. I'm stupid in the areas of human relations, mathematics, and anything else that bores me. Being more than a little too honest when writing things like this, I have to point out that I fond most other people to be boring. Obviously this hasn't led to a life filled with dozens of good friends.
Which, in most cases, doesn't matter, the reason being that I am the definitive introvert.
I'm going to bore you for a few minutes to describe what an introvert is, because most people think it is a synonym for "shy" - that is absolutely not what it means to be an introvert. I'm far from shy. I'm actually the guy most likely to be looking to be the center of attention in a group setting.
Now, if you wanted to be contrarian about it (and I would recognize it if you did, because I'm also quite argumentative if I feel like I'm on firm ground), you could throw this back at me:
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in·tro·vert
[ˈintrəˌvərt]
NOUN
- a shy, reticent person.
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Not so. That is a lazy, facile definition. (He said argumentatively, while standing on firm ground)
Not so. That is a lazy, facile definition. (He said argumentatively, while standing on firm ground)
As evidence, I present this viewpoint, shamelessly stolen from the internet and horrifically truncated because whoever wrote it was being paid by the word:
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Although the stereotypical introvert may be the one at the party who’s hanging out alone by the food table fiddling with an iPhone, the “social butterfly” can just as easily have an introverted personality.
“Spotting the introvert can be harder than finding Waldo,” Sophia Dembling, author of “The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World,” tells The Huffington Post. “A lot of introverts can pass as extroverts.” [You're lookin' at one - DG]
People are frequently unaware that they’re introverts - especially if they’re not shy - because they may not realize that being an introvert is about more than just cultivating time alone. Instead, it can be more instructive to pay attention to whether they’re losing or gaining energy from being around others, even if the company of friends gives them pleasure.
“Introversion is a basic temperament, so the social aspect — which is what people focus on — is really a small part of being an introvert,” Dr. Marti Olsen Laney, psychotherapist and author of “The Introvert Advantage,” said in a Mensa discussion. “It affects everything in your life.”
Despite the growing conversation around introversion, it remains a frequently misunderstood personality trait. As recently as 2010, the American Psychiatric Association even considered classifying “introverted personality” as a disorder by listing it in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-5), a manual used to diagnose mental illness. [Too bad they didn't - Social Security disability payments would come in handy right about now - DG]
But more and more introverts are speaking out about what it really means to be a “quiet” type. Not sure if you’re an innie or an outie? See if any of these 23 telltale signs of introversion apply to you.
(I'll give you the list, but if you want all of the words and pictures spewed forth by the gregarious author, here is the link to the original article: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/08/20/introverts-signs-am-i-introverted_n_3721431.html) - I will also add an asterisk to those that apply to yours truly:
1. You find small talk incredibly cumbersome.
2. You go to parties -– but not to meet people. (I hate parties and don't go to them, so no asterisk)
3. You often feel alone in a crowd*. (and in the way - I hunt for, but can never find, a place to disappear and not be in the way of the crowd)
4. Networking makes you feel like a phony*. (although it depends on the reason - if it's to find people from whom I can get something, then yeah, phony, disingenuous, and tawdry)
5. You’ve been called “too intense.”
6. You’re easily distracted*. (I missed two exits a couple of days ago on a drive I've made many times before despite the GPS being on and having the destination set - this was because I was distracted by talking with my nephew who is himself an introvert. His mother, who doesn't understand the term, was afraid there would be dead silence between us, which is odd because I believe that she too is actually an introvert)
7. Downtime doesn’t feel unproductive to you*. (Which isn't to say that I don't like being active; rather, it means that I don't HAVE to be active)
8. Giving a talk in front of 500 people is less stressful than having to mingle with those people afterwards*.
9. When you get on the subway, you sit at the end of the bench -– not in the middle*. Well, airplanes. But mostly because the middle is damned uncomfortable.
10. You start to shut down after you’ve been active for too long*. (They want to give me a retirement party at work, and they want to have it at the type of loud, crowded bar that I typically try to sneak out of after about ten minutes - that's going to be tough this time around)
11. You’re in a relationship with an extrovert.
12. You’d rather be an expert at one thing than try to do everything. (NO, NO, NO - this is NOT me!)
13. You actively avoid any shows that might involve audience participation*. (OMG yes!! I'm going to post an anecdote to the bottom of this already lengthy journal entry to demonstrate this)
14. You screen all your calls — even from friends.*
15. You notice details that others don’t.* (see also: traits as described way back up there at the top)
16. You have a constantly running inner monologue.* (I NEVER shut up in my head!! Sadly, a lot of it is starting to bubble out as I find myself talking to myself at an alarming rate)
17. You have low blood pressure.
18. You’ve been called an “old soul” -– since your 20s.* (sort of - in my early teens I had advanced hobbies like computer programming and flying R/C airplanes, which commonly put me in with an older group)
19. You don’t feel “high” from your surroundings
20. You look at the big picture.* (Yes, and I am often frustrated by short-sighted people, or people that don't have a sense of scope or scale.)
21. You’ve been told to “come out of your shell.”
22. You’re a writer. * (Ha ha ha, you tell me! If you've gotten this far, surely you have figured this out on your own. I prefer writing because 1) I don't get interrupted as I try to build a narrative towards a conclusion or punchline, 2) I need to get the words out of my head, but I only want to do it once. As a pilot, I get the same "did you fly anywhere this weekend?" question every Monday, and it's much easier to say, "Yep, read the blog, it was a pretty cool trip.")
23. You alternate between phases of work and solitude, and periods of social activity*. (Well, yes, but doesn't everybody?)
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So? What was the point of laboring, well... the point?
My job.
I may have mentioned that I've been programming computers since I was a teenager. That really means something if you do the math: how many of you had ever even seen a real computer in 1975? Well, I hadn't either, but I had the next best thing: Cincinnati Public Schools (Yelp gives them 1/2 of a star) would let us use a teletype and acoustic modem to dial-in to their mainframe. I used that to learn how to write simple programs in BASIC. Note that simple programs are all that you are likely to write on a teletype. So archaic now, but at the time a teletype was nearly science fiction.
2. You go to parties -– but not to meet people. (I hate parties and don't go to them, so no asterisk)
3. You often feel alone in a crowd*. (and in the way - I hunt for, but can never find, a place to disappear and not be in the way of the crowd)
4. Networking makes you feel like a phony*. (although it depends on the reason - if it's to find people from whom I can get something, then yeah, phony, disingenuous, and tawdry)
5. You’ve been called “too intense.”
6. You’re easily distracted*. (I missed two exits a couple of days ago on a drive I've made many times before despite the GPS being on and having the destination set - this was because I was distracted by talking with my nephew who is himself an introvert. His mother, who doesn't understand the term, was afraid there would be dead silence between us, which is odd because I believe that she too is actually an introvert)
7. Downtime doesn’t feel unproductive to you*. (Which isn't to say that I don't like being active; rather, it means that I don't HAVE to be active)
8. Giving a talk in front of 500 people is less stressful than having to mingle with those people afterwards*.
9. When you get on the subway, you sit at the end of the bench -– not in the middle*. Well, airplanes. But mostly because the middle is damned uncomfortable.
10. You start to shut down after you’ve been active for too long*. (They want to give me a retirement party at work, and they want to have it at the type of loud, crowded bar that I typically try to sneak out of after about ten minutes - that's going to be tough this time around)
11. You’re in a relationship with an extrovert.
12. You’d rather be an expert at one thing than try to do everything. (NO, NO, NO - this is NOT me!)
13. You actively avoid any shows that might involve audience participation*. (OMG yes!! I'm going to post an anecdote to the bottom of this already lengthy journal entry to demonstrate this)
14. You screen all your calls — even from friends.*
15. You notice details that others don’t.* (see also: traits as described way back up there at the top)
16. You have a constantly running inner monologue.* (I NEVER shut up in my head!! Sadly, a lot of it is starting to bubble out as I find myself talking to myself at an alarming rate)
17. You have low blood pressure.
18. You’ve been called an “old soul” -– since your 20s.* (sort of - in my early teens I had advanced hobbies like computer programming and flying R/C airplanes, which commonly put me in with an older group)
19. You don’t feel “high” from your surroundings
20. You look at the big picture.* (Yes, and I am often frustrated by short-sighted people, or people that don't have a sense of scope or scale.)
21. You’ve been told to “come out of your shell.”
22. You’re a writer. * (Ha ha ha, you tell me! If you've gotten this far, surely you have figured this out on your own. I prefer writing because 1) I don't get interrupted as I try to build a narrative towards a conclusion or punchline, 2) I need to get the words out of my head, but I only want to do it once. As a pilot, I get the same "did you fly anywhere this weekend?" question every Monday, and it's much easier to say, "Yep, read the blog, it was a pretty cool trip.")
23. You alternate between phases of work and solitude, and periods of social activity*. (Well, yes, but doesn't everybody?)
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So? What was the point of laboring, well... the point?
My job.
I may have mentioned that I've been programming computers since I was a teenager. That really means something if you do the math: how many of you had ever even seen a real computer in 1975? Well, I hadn't either, but I had the next best thing: Cincinnati Public Schools (Yelp gives them 1/2 of a star) would let us use a teletype and acoustic modem to dial-in to their mainframe. I used that to learn how to write simple programs in BASIC. Note that simple programs are all that you are likely to write on a teletype. So archaic now, but at the time a teletype was nearly science fiction.
As an aside, I need to now tell you that I got my first job when I was in the 6th grade. That was my second year in the public school system after escaping from the local parochial, and I was not enjoying it. Bullies. I may have mentioned that I'm skinny and weak. I'm also white, and Cincy public schools reflected the city as a whole, and that means racial tension. Which in my case translated to 'victim.' Anyway, lunchtime was the worst, so when they asked for volunteers to help out in the lunchroom, I was the first to raise my hand.
There was compensation of a sort: free lunch, a 35¢ per day value. My mother thought that that 35¢ rightfully belonged to me, so she started a little bank account book. In today's economy, that's about $2.00, so I was making $10 a week.
That adds up!
A year later, I was in Jr. High and fell into a job at a local independent pharmacy, working the register and making deliveries. That started at $1.40/hour, or about $8/hour in today's money. Again, not bad for a teenager! I eventually quit that in favor of cooking pizza, which is something I did all through high school (instead of going to parties and sports events) - that paid the minimum wage of $2.65, which is pretty good when you compare the contemporaneous equivalent of $10.00.
So, two things came from this: I learned how to get, have, and hold a job, and I had a lot of discretionary income. That went to two things: a TRS-80 Model 1 home computer (the first in Cincy - not even the Radio Shack stores had them - you had to special order them from Tandy Corp.) and R/C airplanes.
From this we can infer that my three main interests as a teenager were computers, airplanes, and girls.
I was moderately successful at two of those. That is still the case today (See also: not good lookin', which is another way of saying low self-esteem, at least with regards to physical desirability)
There was compensation of a sort: free lunch, a 35¢ per day value. My mother thought that that 35¢ rightfully belonged to me, so she started a little bank account book. In today's economy, that's about $2.00, so I was making $10 a week.
That adds up!
A year later, I was in Jr. High and fell into a job at a local independent pharmacy, working the register and making deliveries. That started at $1.40/hour, or about $8/hour in today's money. Again, not bad for a teenager! I eventually quit that in favor of cooking pizza, which is something I did all through high school (instead of going to parties and sports events) - that paid the minimum wage of $2.65, which is pretty good when you compare the contemporaneous equivalent of $10.00.
So, two things came from this: I learned how to get, have, and hold a job, and I had a lot of discretionary income. That went to two things: a TRS-80 Model 1 home computer (the first in Cincy - not even the Radio Shack stores had them - you had to special order them from Tandy Corp.) and R/C airplanes.
From this we can infer that my three main interests as a teenager were computers, airplanes, and girls.
I was moderately successful at two of those. That is still the case today (See also: not good lookin', which is another way of saying low self-esteem, at least with regards to physical desirability)
Remember how I said that I like to build a narrative to get to a point? Well at long last, here it is, and it is the answer to "what I do" - I am a retiring IT Director, and I am a pilot. I am also married, for the first and only time, to a woman that found a lot more to like about me than my looks.
Honestly, who could ask for more than that?
I'm loath to get into the "what have I done" question because the answer is "a lot!" Let's embrace the efficacy of the bullet list for this one:
- school photographer with my own dark room in Jr. High
- nothing of note in high school. There's a reason I've never been to a reunion.
- dropped out of U of Cincy after freshman year, having not learned how to study during high school
- enlisted in the US Air Force, something I was wildly successful at. Honor grad from basic training and tech school, John Levitow award for being an all-around nice fellow, worked on the reconnaissance system on the top secret (at the time) SR-71 Blackbird strategic recon jet, based at Beale AFB in northern California, which is also where I started the nine-year effort to get my pilot's license, followed by a year in Korea and two in West Germany, where I worked on the RF-4C tactical recon jet. I was sent from Germany to Las Vegas for six weeks of Red Flag (normally they're two weeks, but when you're coming over from Europe, you stay longer) where I voluntarily cross-trained into some Crew Chief-like activities like launching jets, which was something no one had ever seen - typically specialists try to keep from getting their hands dirty, but I was there because I wanted to work on and be around airplanes. They were so impressed that I was awarded a Commendation Medal to supplement my collection of two Achievement Medals. That's no small thing, especially for a lowly E-5.
RF-4C
SR-71
Pilot's panel, SR-71. The square screen behind the control stick is a map projector - I loaded the map film strips on the midnight shift, so I knew exactly where they were going, which was awesomely cool, if I do say so myself. I loved sitting in that cockpit - so very, very exclusive!
- separated after five years active duty, enlisted for six more in the Ohio Air National Guard because they would pay my tuition at The Ohio $tate University, where I majored in aeronautical engineering, and eventually found the math too hard. I then decided to follow my other aptitude and transfer to a Computer Science major, but stupidly remained in the College of Engineering rather than the College of Business. That was an ego-related decision that I paid dearly for when I found out that the math classes were the same. It took me nine years of off-and-on school to get through my degree. I eventually took the first year of an online MBA course just to flesh out the stuff I had missed by not going to the College of Business.
- got a job to help pay tuition when the veteran's benefits ran out. The job was at CompuServe, which today exists as a ghost of its former self, but not as a developer. My first job there was as a software librarian (there were no LANs and shared software archives back then) reporting to Steve Wilhite, the man that invented the .GIF picture format, and that is the reason that I still insist on the Jiff pronunciation over the arrogantly incorrect people that insist on Giff - how do they think they know better than the guy that invented it??!?
- I was a bit of an arrogant and volatile ass myself back then - I say "CompuServe is the job I hated so much that I quit it twice," but looking back, I see I was the precursor to today's entitled millennials. So, I quit CompuServe, worked for a little more than a year at a place called Metatec where I developed text-search applications for these nifty new Compact Disc (CD) thingys, before quitting to go back to CompuServe's new R&D group. I have an old engineering notebook that proves that I invented the idea of the out-of-office assistant now common to all email client software. Note that they didn't see the value of things like that, which might help explain why today's CompuServe is nothing but a wisp of fog in today's internet.
- I quit CompuServe to go to NetJets. That was fun at first because I was just a developer and because we were allowed to fly in the jets on training flights and re-positioning flights. I even got some seat time flying the jets a couple of times. I had to quit when Warren Buffet bought the company - by then I was a manger of a team of six, two of whom were making more than me because Warren didn't want to respond to the higher salaries that came with the dot-com boom.
- I quit NetJets for a management job (this is where I got my first VP title and six-figure salary) at a dot-com consulting place run by a 24 year old CEO. That didn't last. The CEO was unethical, I was tired of having 45 children reporting up to me, and the writing was starting to appear on the wall that the dot-com boom was soon going to bust.
- I consolidated my six-figure salary and VP title into a job at a very small privately-held company that was making money hand over fist. As such, I maintained my VP title and got a 25% raise. My job was to manage the IT contractors that were building the primary business application for a new line of business the company was entering. I fired them in the first six months. I was the only technical person there, so I had total autonomy, and I exercised it to remove that expense and just do the work myself. After all, I was a software developer at heart and was only masquerading as an executive. The guy that hired me knew nothing about technology, and he knew what he didn't know. As an aside, I've always considered knowing what you don't know to be a strength. In any event, during our casual "you should talk to this guy" lunch set up my a former friend of my wife, he noted that I was "quick on my feet" and decided to hire me. So, yes, I knew what I didn't know, but he didn't ask and I didn't volunteer.
- A year and a half later, that company was acquired by a corporation that is currently Fortune 5, although that will likely change next year as things are getting very tight in the industry (see also: why this is a good time for me to quit, once I get around to writing about that). They matched salary, but couldn't give me a VP title, probably because that pays way more than what I was making, or ever likely to make. I settled for 'Director' after their first offer, which was 'Manager.' I began to realize my bargaining position was fairly strong when I learned (too late to do much about it) that the acquisition deal would be dropped if either me or my boss quit. To their credit, they gave me a six-month stay-pay, which was a massive bonus if I would stay six months after the acquisition date. I ended up staying sixteen and a half years, although I interviewed at other places two or three times. It was a hard, hard job. But that's maybe a story for another time.
So there it is in a very big nutshell. Hopefully this mini (ha!) auto-bio will help you understand me a little better as we progress through this journal of a significant life-change.
Thanks for toughing it out, assuming anyone ever gets this far.
Here's your reward - the story of my hatred of being called on stage, and my response to it:
The full story, if you can stand it, is at this link: (http://www.schmetterlingaviation.com/2011/06/winning-big-in-vegas.html)
The pertinent bit:
We had a few hours to spend in the mall, and if there is anything that Vegas goes over the top on (well, there are a lot of things that Vegas goes over the top on, but let's agree to just let that go in the interest of literary expediency, again), it's malls. With the prohibitive heat of the summer, Vegas has moved outdoor malls indoors. The domed ceilings are painted and lit to look like a dusk sky, and the store fronts are designed to look like on-street storefronts. And, again, a starkly incongruous location for a ship. I'm sensing a pattern developing here...
So, the Magic and Tigers Show. How, you're wondering, did I manage to win something while sitting at a magic show? Well, it's like this. If you've ever been to a magic show, you will know that there is more to them than the tricks. There are elements of stand up comedy, and in some cases, tigers. The magician will also typically interact with the crowd and, as with most stage shows, will periodically request a volunteer from the audience to participate on stage. Failing to find a volunteer, the showman will draft an unwilling audience member. With us in the front row, we were obvious targets. As he came down the stairs looking for a victim, I attempted to hide by scrunching down into my seat.
That, as it turns out, is akin to blood in the water for these guys. I had no sooner muttered "Oh, no!" before I was up on stage in front of 500+ people holding a leather collar attached to a 10' leather leash. The other guy that had been yanked from his seat was holding two leather ankle straps, also attached to a leash. Between us was a rolling table that looked for all the world like an operating table. Sitting on the table was the Vegas showgirl (hot, hot, HOT!) that works as the magician's "victim" for the trick.
My assignment was to buckle the leather collar to the Vegas showgirl's neck.
Let's think about that for a moment.
On stage, in front of 500+ people, buckling a leather collar around the neck of a very scantily clad young woman.
Who wouldn't be a little nervous??
So I fumbled and bumbled with the buckle, my brain suddenly incapable of coherent thought and my hands shaking as if I had just mainlined a quart of Starbuck's finest Columbian.
And here came Mr. Thomas (the magician) to the rescue. He leaned over and said, "What's the matter? Don't you do this at home?"
I replied with the first thing that came into my head: "Well, yes, but ours are Velcro."
I had forgotten that he was wearing a microphone.
All 500+ of the audience heard it loud and clear. Fortunately, it resulted in the biggest laugh of the entire show. There was a measure of revenge in that!
But wait! What's all of that got to do with winning big in Vegas?
Let's think about that for a moment.
Buckling a leather collar around the neck of a very scantily clad young woman..... and a Vegas showgirl to boot.
I think the current asking price for that kind of thing is around $400.
Score: $420.14.
