Smooth Sailing….NOT!

I sit here and ponder as I have completely my first week back in college. So far, I am ahead on my homework assignments and I am feeling rather confident about the whole thing. Mind you, I am sure at some point I will have my head spinning over an assignment and things will be normalized somewhat. After all, life without somewhat tension would just be downright boring. In the meantime I will just have to tolerate the boredom the best I can.

According to the Chinese calendar, the year 2010 is the Year of the Tiger. However, in my home, 2010 seems to be the year of educational pursuit. Allow me to bring you up to speed on things. My younger son, Caleb, is entering his senior year of high school. My older daughter, Shayna, has begun her final year in college as a psychology major. So, at the end of the year, I will have one child graduating high school and another graduating college. Needless to say, the cost of disposable tissues will skyrocket. That's fine; I know my wife will be there with a steady supply and a reassuring hand. In addition to this, both my older son, Tom, and my younger daughter, Brianna, are in the process of continuing their college education after working hard to overcome some personal setbacks. What can I say? I have never been a prouder father of my four kids. They all show great promise for their lives in the forthcoming year.

All of this wonderful change in my family can easily make my head spin. That's OK. I can always look to my darling wife and find some sense of calm in this great ocean of change. I had no idea that the tide had not quite come in yet. I was expecting my wife to help me hoist a sail. She didn't tell me I had to stand watch in the crow's nest. I guess I should just dispense with the ocean analogy and just get to the point. After all, I do not wish to bore you (and a pox on those who say "TOO LATE!")

After doing all of the administrative legwork for the kids and me, my wife decided that it was time for her to make a change in her own life. In some of the heaviest news since "Shane, I'm pregnant", my wife tells me that she intends to continue her own pursuit of higher education. My wife has decided to pursue a degree in Social Work so that she may counsel families with special needs children. This is an area very close to our hearts and I have no doubt that she will excel in her pursuit.

Still, it's kind of weird. All of my studies are online. I can't exactly carry her books for her. I won't have a pledge pin to offer her. I won't even have a letter jacket for her to wear (they don't offer varsity letters for blogging. I already checked). So, I figured I would try to find some other way to offer some support. She told me that for one college she would have to submit a 300 word essay. She asked me if I could help her with a 300 word essay. Clearly, she had forgotten about my prom night piece.

So to all of my family and friends, please allow me to apologize in advance for my lack of availability. For the duration, I will most likely be doing my homework assignment, finding out about my next homework assignment, or helping someone with their homework assignment. Someone please tell me the location of the tranquility Christopher Cross promised us all.

Shane Finally Goes to College (Again)

Well, the day has finally arrived. You have heard me go on ad nauseam about admissions letter, class registration, and financial aid. True to the spirit of my writing you have read my random ramblings and mindless minutiae about my wife's unending support (and undying patience) and my daughter's many mantras. Actually, I think if she could, my daughter, Brianna, would press charges for the murder of her patience. I would like to reassure my wife and all four of my kids that such things are all behind us now. I'd LIKE to do that but I consider myself an honest man.

Today marks the first day of classes for my bachelor's program in Health Information Management. This is the start of a new adventure for me. I have set out to further my education and my career. I start this venture at the (relatively) young age of 44. It is my goal to finish this program before I am retired, dead, or too old to remember what I studying in the first place. In my mind, I envisioned the inspirational music playing in the background as I spoke about this. Alas, all I can hear now is the churning of my window air conditioning unit. I guess that will have to do since John Phillip Sousa is unavailable.

I am starting out slowly with two classes this semester so as not to get overconfident and overload myself with school, work, and watching the Atlanta Braves inch closer and closer to the playoffs (everything in its proper place).I am taking my classes over the Internet because my college is about 3 hours from where I live. The commute would be a bit rough on my van. I have all of my textbooks on the shelf and I can study at my own pace (within the confines of assignment deadlines). I can access my classes from anywhere I have Internet access. There is no dress code (provide that my webcam is not required). I don't have to raise my hand to use the restroom (the professors quickly tire of such phone calls). I can play music during my class. I might even whip out my harmonica during some classes and no one would know but yours truly (and my neighbors). The coolest part of all is that I can even chew gum and not have to supply it for the entire class. That's right, Mrs. Douglas in Life Science class in Room 80 at Quail Hollow Junior High School in Charlotte, North Carolina. I will NEVER risk having to write 500 sentences stating that I will not chew gum in class. HAH, I say. HAH!

I have started reading some of the course materials and have even completed some of the homework. One of the homework assignments was posting a discussion thread introducing myself to the class. I even restrained myself from my kneejerk reaction to tell my fellow students that I like long walks on the beach and men who aren't afraid to cry. Instead, I just stuck to the facts. Don't get me wrong. I don't personally have anything against long walks on the beach and men who aren't afraid to cry. They just aren't on my list of favorite things.

So there you have it folks. A lot of you are probably thinking that since all this college stuff I have been anticipating has come to pass, I probably move on to other subjects for my writing. To paraphrase Michael Corleone: "Who's being naïve?"

The Wait Vol. II: CHILLAX!

The days continued. With each day that passed the ritual remained the same. I would wait for the time when the mail was due to arrive. The now seemingly scripted dialogue soon followed: "Did the letter come today?" "Not today, honey." "Do you think it'll come tomorrow?" "I dunno, honey. We'll see." My wife and kids had been very patient with me. They accommodated the daily questions. They would occasionally would pat me on the shoulder and tell me it would be okay. They even let me be when I ultimately began rocking myself in a chair (sans rocking chair) and repeating "They said it would be two weeks but it's been more than two weeks. Two weeks is FOURTEEN DAYS." They DID become a LITTLE concerned when I began marking each passed day on the wall with a chalk mark.

Finally, as much as they love me, my wife and kids had endured as much as they could take. They had grown tired of the daily questions and the rocking. My wife insisted that I clean the chalk marks off the wall. We had begun to incur legal costs as the postman had sued and filed an order of protection against my wife for her "unprovoked attack during the performance of the postal carrier's duties". Some people can be REALLY touchy I guess. Finally, I got up one day to discover that my daughter had written a message on my bedroom mirror: "It will come when it comes so CHILLAX!" So I decided to pull myself together. After all, my wife keeps telling me "Good things come to those who wait." I'll try to remember that the next time I am in the doctor's office waiting to undergo a "routine diagnostic procedure".

Then, one fine summer Saturday, I stood outside basking in the sunshine. My wife and daughter were both out of the house. I watched the cars as they passed by my house. I was beginning to embrace the day as a long overdue return to normalcy. It was around this point that this feeling began to overcome me. It was a good feeling but, all the same, it felt unusual in light of the self-induced near catatonic state from which my wife and daughter had all but forcefully ejected me (though they use the words "gently nudged").

Out of the corner of my eye, I began to see a shade of blue. I had seen this shade before but couldn't place why it was so familiar. As I turned my gaze to finds the source of the color it became clearer. A nice man in a blue uniform toting a satchel on his shoulder approached me. He seemed REALLY nervous. "Your mail, Sir", he said. I thanked him as I accepted the delivery from his trembling hands. This guy was shaking like Don Knotts in a deep freezer. "Your wife's not here, is she?" I told him she was out and he went his way. For the life of me, I don't know what it was about my wife that apparently made him so nervous.

I took the mail inside and began to sort out the bills and the mail that goes directly to the recycle bin (addressed to "Current Occupant". Suddenly, as I looked at the last piece of mail, the good feeling that came over me turned to ecstasy. IT CAME! IT FINALLY CAME! The letter read: "Congratulations, you have been accepted….into our BS in Heath Information Management program for the Fall 2010 semester….A transfer credit evaluation including the number of credits accepted will be sent under different cover." I'M IN! I'M IN! I'M IN! I whipped out my handy dandy cell phone and took a picture of the envelope. I then sent to picture to my wife's cell phone. She called me right away and proudly congratulated me.

Alas, the next few days passed by and I began to wonder: "Hmmm, what about that transfer of credit letter?" Then, it began again. "Did the letter come today?" "Not today, honey." "Do you think it'll come tomorrow?" "I dunno, honey. We'll see." My wife was kind enough to call the college and inquire today. They said the transfer of credit letter had been signed off by the director. I should receive the package in about a week or so. I have decided to NOT panic over this (thanks to the advice of Douglas Adams). After all, the postal carrier was kind enough to drop the suit. I think I'll relax and listen to the radio. OH, MAN! The radio station is playing Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods AGAIN! UGH!

The Wait Vol. I: Wait A Minute, Mr. (or Miss) Mail Carrier

    I have found myself at the figurative crossroad recently. I have a hard time speaking about a crossroad without hearing Eric Clapton playing an A chord riff; but let's stick to the subject. I spent two years serving as a Hospital Corpsman in the United States Navy. When I got out in 1986, I worked in several hospitals over the next ten years as a phlebotomist (the guy in the lab coat that draws your blood for testing). In 1998, I was no longer in that field and, with the encouragement of my wife and a few loved ones, decided to go back to college.


   I completed my degree program in 2001. I spent most of the next eight years working in software/hardware quality testing. I now currently work in technical support. There have been some bumps in the road along the way (i.e. layoffs). Overall, I would definitely have to say that it has definitely been worth the investment of my time (and my family's time) to pursue that degree. Nearly ten years later, I find myself in my mid-forties at the aforementioned metaphorical crossroad. I know that it is MY crossroad because I can look up and see a pair of sneakers hanging over the power line. I could continue to maintain my current career in Information Technology (while picking up new skills along the way via experience). Alternatively, I could begin to move things in a different direction in the interest of acquiring new skills and becoming a better-rounded individual (and feed people a straight line about my physique). The one option I knew I did not have was to just stand at the corner and watch life pass by. I had to follow the wisdom of Yogi Berra: "If you come to a fork in the road, take it."


   My family has been telling me for years that I needed to find a way to mesh my hospital experience with my information technology experience. I finally found a degree program that appeared to do just that. Further research (with the assistance of my wife, Renee) showed that I could even pursue this degree entirely over the Internet (with the exception of internships). In the space of less than two days; my wife had called the college, we had filled out financial aid forms, and I had applied for admission to pursue a Bachelor's degree in Health Information Management. The college told my wife that they were waiting for my transcripts from my two year college. They told her that in approximately two weeks, I would receive a packet that would confirm my admission and tell me how many credits transferred from my two year college.


   I patiently waited a few days before I decided to get antsy. Mind you, my wife would probably suggest that I am apparently working on a different solar cycle (with much shorter days). I became the kid in the back of the station wagon destined for the family vacation spot. Every day I went by I would ask my wife if the acceptance letter had arrived. Very day she would patiently respond with "Not today, honey". Another day would arrive and the process would start again. "Did the letter come today?" "Not today, honey." "Do you think it'll come tomorrow?" "I dunno, honey. We'll see." If my wife was not available, I'd ask my daughter. Some days, Brianna would anticipate the question and just say "No, Dad. It didn't come today" You could almost FEEL Brianna rolling her eyes when I asked her.


   This waiting game is only exacerbated by the fact that I am beginning to notice there are a lot of artists singing songs about sending or receiving a letter. These artists include (but are not limited to): REO Speedwagon, The Box Tops, The Marvelettes, Brad Paisley, Pat Boone, John Prine and Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods. Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods have prompted me to get something off my chest here. So, please forgive me while I go down a brief bunny trail. Billy, I don't know who you are. What I DO know is that your young and lovely fiancée does not wish for you to be a hero. Can you please just tell the little lady that you WILL be a hero and to go on with her life? Otherwise, she is just going to get a letter and throw it away and we will still be hearing about it 35 years later. Therefore, I ask you, Billy. PLEASE cut us a break.

So, the days pass (as well as two weeks) and still no letter. The daily call-and-response continues between my wife and me. I know that any day now, I am going to ask my wife about the letter. My wife is going to turn to me with those gentle eyes and say: "NO! NO, YOU DID NOT GET YOUR STINKIN' LETTER! AS A MATTER OF FACT, WHEN THE POSTMAN CAME TODAY, I PUNCHED HIM IN THE MOUTH FOR NOT PROVIDED THE ONE THING THAT WOULD GET YOU TO SHUT UP!" When this happens, I will just have to lovingly look at my wife and ask: "Do you think it'll come tomorrow?"


    I did follow up with the college. They confirmed they DID (finally) receive my transcript and should receive something "any day now". I guess they work on a different solar cycle too. I think they have shorter days in the Arctic North. I guess I will just try and relax for now and maybe listen to some music. OH, MAN! They are playing that song AGAIN. Come ON, Billy. I can't take much more of this.

Mighty Mona, I Thank You

In 1982, as a junior in high school, I took a class in computer programming. The choice to take this class was not a deliberate one. I did not register for classes at the end of my sophomore year thinking: “Hmmm, I’d love to take a computer programming class”. In the last weeks of my summer vacation, I got a phone call from my school stating that one of the classes I had picked was no longer available. The teacher recommended the computer programming class as a replacement. Incidentally, she was also the computer programming teacher. I reluctantly took her recommendation and registered for the class.

I was less than enthusiastic about this class. Choosing this class forced me to embrace an element I loathed — Math. It was bad enough I had to get my head around things like finding the value of x. Now I had to learn new ways of counting. This wonderful teacher taught us to count in base 2, base 8, and base 16 (and told me that up to this point I had been using base 10). This meant that 8 +8 = 16, 8 + 8 = 10, 10 + 10 = 20, and 1000 + 1000 = 10000 were all correct and the same equation. It was just the first day of class and my head was already spinning.

I wondered how this class was possibly going to benefit me at the end of the school year. I had no use of a computer in 1982. My telephone had a cord and I left it at home (like every other normal human being). People sent mail using pen, paper, an envelope, and a postage stamp. Then again, in 1982, the following was also true: a mouse required a cat (or an exterminator), a keyboard could be heard prominently during a Rush concert, a hard drive occurred only in baseball, and a flash drive would get you arrested by a state trooper.

The teacher then gave us a prediction that made me think she had lost her marbles. She told us that computers would be everywhere in our adult years. She further asserted that computers and other electronic devices would do everything from common household tasks to communicating with people around the world. I quickly dismissed her prediction as false prophecy. I figured this would only happen in a world where Commander James Bond would be having lunch with Captain James Kirk. There was no way a box would run my life. I began to wonder what other ridiculous predictions the teacher would make: the Soviet Union will break up (RIGHT!!!), kids will adore a purple dinosaur (and ignore Captain Kangaroo?), and Ron Howard will win an Academy Award (you mean Ritchie Cunningham...Opie Taylor….now THAT’S just crazy talk).

In the more than 25 years that have passed since my teacher’s predictions, many things have happened. The Soviet Union fell in 1991. Little kids DID become obsessed with a purple dinosaur (completely unaware of Captain Kangaroo). Ron Howard has won two Academy Awards (as of this writing). Alas, I must concede, that some of her other predictions came to pass. My life is centered on my wife and four kids. My life also orbits around a portable media player, a (state trooper safe) flash drive, and a laptop computer. The portable media player holds up to 30 gigabytes of data (which translates into thousands of audio tracks). The flash drive holds up to 16 gigabytes of data (allowing me to store files and carry them in my pocket). The laptop computer holds of to 180 gigabytes of data and has 2 gigabytes of memory. The data is stored on a hard drive and a floppy disk is only useful as a coaster for my drink because a drive for such media is all but obsolete.

The other area where the teacher’s predictions came true is on the job front. At the present time, I make my bread and butter as a software quality tester. Actually, I work as a software tester to afford my whole grain bread and cover it with a non trans-fat spread that would only taste like butter if the coffee I am drinking burns off some nerve endings in my tongue. It’s not a bad career for someone whose teacher reluctantly (and barely) gave me a passing grade.

In conclusion, I’d like to offer Ms. Mona Meddin, my computer programming teacher, my abject apologies for my apathy and my appreciation for the passing grade. Without you, this blog would not be possible. My family thanks you (as well as the people who sold me my laptop computer, my USB flash drive, and my portable media player).

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

I’d like to take a moment and thank everyone who has read my blog, left a comment, and asked me to continue writing more entries for BDGJM. Furthermore, I’d like to (once again) thank Kevin Cummings for his encouragement and support this week. Kevin runs the “Short Cummings Audio” podcast and I am a huge fan. It is an incredible honor to me that he takes the time to let me benefit from his wisdom and experience. Kevin’s podcast can be found at http://www.shortcummingsaudio.com/

I’d also like to thank a friend I have known for 30 years: Janet Beach. Janet has read (and proofread) a lot of things I have written even before I ever thought of starting BDGJM. This post is partly a result of Janet encouraging me to re-work an incomplete essay I had abandoned. Thank you, Janet Holly.

Lastly, I want to thank my wife, Renee, and our four kids: Tom, Shayna, Brianna, and Caleb. The joy you give me daily inspires me to no end.