Enjoyed your, en medias res. I learned something new, not often experienced by an 81 year old.
My take, however, is our lives rarely are skewed in a major direction by a singular event.
At 81, looking back, my life appears to be a portrait of numerous small decisions thought unimportant when made that shifted the projection of my life into alternate universes.
There is one event, however, which was major that occurred, not a decision, but a fate occurrence like what happens in the Iliad.
I was desperate poor in San Francisco, living in the Tenderloin, a building my co workers would not enter with wife and baby driving a 1956 Desoto someone had given me.
I’d filled out many job applications, enough not to remember.
In the mail came a letter saying an appraiser job was open in Santa Clara County Assessor’s office which only required a college degree.
I drove down from SF to take the test but the examination was held in the cafeteria which was filled with applicants.
I felt stupid for even thinking I had a chance and was also upset the long details of the application form wanted to know not only about my college and high school but also GRADE SCHOOL I’d attended.
I passed the written exam and they scheduled an interview.
I was reluctant to take the long trip from SF in my Desoto, an unreliable form of transportation, but I did.
At the oral interview, the interviewer said as I sat down,
“I see you went to the same grade school as I did.”
Out of the many who took the written exam only 3 were hired, me one of them.
After my 3 months probation the chief appraiser called us 3 into his office and said,
“Welcome aboard, you’re on the gravy train! Don’t fuck it up.”
I enjoyed your story! One minor quibble; res rhymes with grace, not dress. Your story is excellent! I thought about where I would begin my
memoir. I was ten, asleep in my upstairs bedroom. A red flashing light coming into my dreams from somewhere woke me up. Immediately, I felt cold and afraid. I got up from my bed, walked to the window, and looked down. In the early morning light, I saw my father being pushed on a gurney toward an ambulance parked in the driveway with a red flashing light going around and around. Brian
Enjoyed your, en medias res. I learned something new, not often experienced by an 81 year old.
My take, however, is our lives rarely are skewed in a major direction by a singular event.
At 81, looking back, my life appears to be a portrait of numerous small decisions thought unimportant when made that shifted the projection of my life into alternate universes.
There is one event, however, which was major that occurred, not a decision, but a fate occurrence like what happens in the Iliad.
I was desperate poor in San Francisco, living in the Tenderloin, a building my co workers would not enter with wife and baby driving a 1956 Desoto someone had given me.
I’d filled out many job applications, enough not to remember.
In the mail came a letter saying an appraiser job was open in Santa Clara County Assessor’s office which only required a college degree.
I drove down from SF to take the test but the examination was held in the cafeteria which was filled with applicants.
I felt stupid for even thinking I had a chance and was also upset the long details of the application form wanted to know not only about my college and high school but also GRADE SCHOOL I’d attended.
I passed the written exam and they scheduled an interview.
I was reluctant to take the long trip from SF in my Desoto, an unreliable form of transportation, but I did.
At the oral interview, the interviewer said as I sat down,
“I see you went to the same grade school as I did.”
Out of the many who took the written exam only 3 were hired, me one of them.
After my 3 months probation the chief appraiser called us 3 into his office and said,
“Welcome aboard, you’re on the gravy train! Don’t fuck it up.”
It skewed my life upward.
Mike I thoroughly enjoy reading about your thoughts and reflections - insightful, well researched and provocative. Damn glad I know you.
I enjoyed your story! One minor quibble; res rhymes with grace, not dress. Your story is excellent! I thought about where I would begin my
memoir. I was ten, asleep in my upstairs bedroom. A red flashing light coming into my dreams from somewhere woke me up. Immediately, I felt cold and afraid. I got up from my bed, walked to the window, and looked down. In the early morning light, I saw my father being pushed on a gurney toward an ambulance parked in the driveway with a red flashing light going around and around. Brian