How Did I Get Here?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Hang in there Hugh, there’s still time!
I have recently enrolled in Facebook. It’s amazing to see all of those faces from the past. Some are in Texas, some in California, but most are in Seattle. In conversing with some of these folks I knew in high school one theme seems constantly present: How did I get here?
I thought about this briefly while visiting the post office in Brooklyn. Behind the counter are dedicated workers. I imagine that some of those folks have been there a long time and will continue there until retirement. What path did they follow to arrive behind that counter? When they left school did they actually say to themselves; “I am going to work at the post office!”?
I remember one fellow who drove garbage trucks. He had been with the company quite a while. He was fairly young, healthy, and happy. He enjoyed driving garbage trucks. He acknowledged that it was probably the best job he would ever have given that he never finished high school. He had not aspired to be there, but he was infinitely happy to be there.
It seems like we all start out with high hopes and aspirations. At some point kids always want to be firefighters or police officers. Some want stardom with all the fame and fortune that accompanies it. I always wanted to be a cowboy, although I did become enamored with the truck drivers who moved us from New Jersey to Tacoma. I also aspired to be a photographer (in high school I imagined that Playboy was holding a place for me), a movie star, and a writer. I never once imagined that I would be a cook, a raft guide, or a teacher. Yet I have been all of these things.
Maybe at some point practicality wins out over all else. Or maybe life just steps in and takes over, forcing us to make a choice we might not have otherwise made. It’s not that we end up being unhappy in those choices. Indeed many of the people I have talked to admit that they are quite happy, just surprised at the turns their life has taken.
I did, ultimately become a professional driver, but why didn’t I become a photographer (maybe Hugh is still pining away for me)? I definitely enjoy taking pictures. I know that I am pretty good at it. I worked as chief yearbook photographer in college and was even hired out to do a wedding and some band shots. So what happened? Why didn’t I pursue it?
These are questions that will never be answered. I think the important part is that I don’t regret the decision. I am happy where I am. Although the path has been crooked, I am more than content with the destination. Besides, in the back of my head I like to think that any of my dreams are still possible; Brian Dennehy didn’t begin acting until his late thirties. I’d like to name a few others, but my mind is now blank. Suffice it to say that I may still pull a few surprises out of my hat…
MJR
Hang in there Hugh, there’s still time!
I have recently enrolled in Facebook. It’s amazing to see all of those faces from the past. Some are in Texas, some in California, but most are in Seattle. In conversing with some of these folks I knew in high school one theme seems constantly present: How did I get here?
I thought about this briefly while visiting the post office in Brooklyn. Behind the counter are dedicated workers. I imagine that some of those folks have been there a long time and will continue there until retirement. What path did they follow to arrive behind that counter? When they left school did they actually say to themselves; “I am going to work at the post office!”?
I remember one fellow who drove garbage trucks. He had been with the company quite a while. He was fairly young, healthy, and happy. He enjoyed driving garbage trucks. He acknowledged that it was probably the best job he would ever have given that he never finished high school. He had not aspired to be there, but he was infinitely happy to be there.
It seems like we all start out with high hopes and aspirations. At some point kids always want to be firefighters or police officers. Some want stardom with all the fame and fortune that accompanies it. I always wanted to be a cowboy, although I did become enamored with the truck drivers who moved us from New Jersey to Tacoma. I also aspired to be a photographer (in high school I imagined that Playboy was holding a place for me), a movie star, and a writer. I never once imagined that I would be a cook, a raft guide, or a teacher. Yet I have been all of these things.
Maybe at some point practicality wins out over all else. Or maybe life just steps in and takes over, forcing us to make a choice we might not have otherwise made. It’s not that we end up being unhappy in those choices. Indeed many of the people I have talked to admit that they are quite happy, just surprised at the turns their life has taken.
I did, ultimately become a professional driver, but why didn’t I become a photographer (maybe Hugh is still pining away for me)? I definitely enjoy taking pictures. I know that I am pretty good at it. I worked as chief yearbook photographer in college and was even hired out to do a wedding and some band shots. So what happened? Why didn’t I pursue it?
These are questions that will never be answered. I think the important part is that I don’t regret the decision. I am happy where I am. Although the path has been crooked, I am more than content with the destination. Besides, in the back of my head I like to think that any of my dreams are still possible; Brian Dennehy didn’t begin acting until his late thirties. I’d like to name a few others, but my mind is now blank. Suffice it to say that I may still pull a few surprises out of my hat…
MJR
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 2:59 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home