#when I was young and my parents were poor I spent hours reading the catalogues and drooling over historically accurate accessories

[dandelionsandderivatives]

While I was languishing on the bed of illness last week, I spent a lot of time reading up on American Girl Doll lore. Dear followers, you may see a lot of American Girl content in the following weeks. I say this not to apologize, but to entice.

[genforwardlegacy-blog]

Ever done something, well, stupid that’s changed your life??

http://genforward.org/blog/what-if-how-one-decision-can-change-a-life/

Ok, let’s start today's GenForward blog here by saying that I’m pretty happy in my life right now. Yes it would be great to have a bunch more money, and to maybe have to do a bit less work, and maybe have a bit more in the way of actual family time, but hey the big things outweigh the little things.

I sometimes sit back and think about the madness that has been my life. Of how I went from being a small boy growing up in a small town in the county, to where I am now, sitting here in the USA, married to someone from another different country in Europe, doing what I’m doing and being happy. The odds are ridiculous.

My past has been filled with good times and bad, smart decisions and even more poor ones (but usually made with reasons of good intent). I have earned money in the hundreds of thousands per year, and I have been practically homeless. I have travelled all over the world and lived like a rock star, and more often I’ve barely scratched my way though to the next week.

All of it is what’s made the “me” that I actually like today. Much as some of the bad stuff I may fleetingly wish to change, I understand that it cannot happen and still give me the same end result. So instead of trying to change my past (when my son finally finishes inventing the time machine he’s been working on, with Lego and bits of cardboard box, then I may actually have a choice in changing the past, but for now...), I embrace it. I try to see what lessons can be learned and maybe passed on.

All of that being said, there are certain moments that I look back on and can see how they would have potentially changed EVERYTHING. Moments when my life would have gone on a track that was 180 degrees from where I ended up heading. Who can say where the journey might have ended in that case, maybe better, maybe worse. I think ultimately I would probably have been happier in my work for many years, however that’s by the by.

The incident in question was when I was 17 years old, shortly before I moved out of home (which is another story altogether). I had been born into the home computer revolution. All of my life I had been involved with computers, video games and electronics.

I got my first system in about 1976 or 77. It was a Binatone game system that you plugged straight into the TV.  Using this wonder of modern technology, me and my brother were able to battle it out in various “sports” involving a court with various bits filled in or missing.  There were 3 sides for squash, 2 sides with open ends for tennis, 4 sides with a hole at each end for football (soccer), and the game involved bouncing a square dot of a “ball” around with a stick of varying lengths (long for normal setting, short for pro).

Over the years I had exposure to everything from the Spectrum ZX81 with it’s amazing 1k of inbuilt RAM (you could upgrade by plugging in a small suitcase sized brick that gave you 16K), through my BBC B with which I started to learn BASIC programming, then to a series of Commodore machines (which were practically impossible to programme but had the best games).

I had always loved these things and could regularly be found down the local computer/CB radio store, acting as a pretend employee, technology expert and general gaming guru. When I hit 16 and left High School, I then picked up Computer Science as one of my Advanced Level subjects. I found it easy but didn’t do particularly well at the exam, primarily due to the mark being about 50% based on a programming exercise.

I had proclaimed that I would write a programme to catalogue my ever growing record collection. It was supposed to be carried out over several terms of homework assignments. Due to my usual fascination with beer rather than schoolwork, I ended up sitting in a corridor finishing off my project (18 months work condensed into 4 days) just as the envelopes were being sealed to send them off for marking. Needless to say, “Not his best work”, would have been a fair tagline.

So, next step was either university or work. Given that I had just spent 2 years avoiding education, my parents didn’t want to back me in going to university, to just bum about and throw away another two years or more. Besides, I wanted to go and earn some money. I had had a taste of proper money (well, over 100 pounds a week) working in a local bacon factory over the summer holidays, and I liked the feel of cash to burn.

My Stepfather was and IT Director for a big multinational firm at the time, and he was good enough to pull a few strings to get me an interview as a trainee computer programmer/systems designer, at a small IT firm about 15 miles away. This was right up my street, so I was well chuffed with the whole idea.

I went along for the interview which really consisted of a bunch of people being sat in a room and given an IQ test, followed by a 5 minute chat where I could impress them with my 3 week A level project, which had barely qualified for a grade, written in a coding language that they didn’t use.

Next thing I hear is that they want another talk. I am told when I turn up that although I had no experience, they were talking to me because I had scored higher in the IQ test than the guy who was running the company (had no idea what that meant then but it sounded good). I am also sure that my Stepfather probably had a finger in greasing the wheels. I was to join them and start the following Monday morning at 9am, sharp.

Well, I was there by 9am, but I wasn’t exactly “sharp”. You see I had been out to celebrate my new job on the Friday......and the Saturday.....and the Sunday night. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Sunday night had involved crossing paths with a young lady, with whom I became quite smitten (not sure if alcohol was at play here but I had been smitten by her sister 2 nights earlier as well). Being naïve teenagers, living in the country and with no place to go, we left the pub (well after closing time as we were both regulars and the landlord was a believer in after hours “lock-ins”).

She was a little older than me and actually had a car (of sorts), so she drove me home and we parked outside my house. Then, how shall I put it, time kind of got away from me. By the time I could drag myself away, I had about 20 minutes to go and get showered and dressed, and to catch the bus that would take me to my new job. At this point, sleep was simply not an option. But hey, I was 17 and could officially handle anything.

I arrive at the new job and a complete doomsday scenario unfolds.

Instead of the engaging induction into the world of the company, and computers in general, that I had been expecting, I was greeted with a book. They explained that as I knew nothing, I should start by reading bit about the basics of programming in “C”, and that till I had an understanding of that they really couldn’t do anything with me.

I was led to a room where a couple of what looked like 20 somethings, clicking away at chunky computer keyboards. Apart from the click of the keys, there was silence. The room had no windows. Air conditioning in the UK is still few and far between; in 1987....well, just no, so it was hot. The book they gave me might as well have been titled “1001 ways to be certain not to stimulate any interest at all in your reader”. It had to happen.

I probably managed about 30 minutes before my eyes started to sting and get heavy. I made a trip to the toilet to splash water on my face. Good for maybe another 15 minutes, by now the room was spinning. More water. HELP!

Next thing I knew, I was prodded awake by the HR person who kindly informed me that, due to the fact that I had fallen asleep twice, and that my snoring was interfering with the other coders, my services were no longer required. They took back their book, and I was thrown out unceremoniously into the street, to wait for the next bus home.

My Stepfather got on the phone to the firm, and tried to explain a bit and fight my corner. It got to the point where it was conceded that the boss may have overreacted a bit, but now that he had, he wasn’t backing down. That couple of hours signaled the end of my career in computing.

Although I did have a genuine passion for computers and computing, as was generally the case back then, the education we had received bore no relation to what was wanted in the work place. Although I applied for other jobs, the next thing I got offered was a job in a local supermarket. To be fair, not exactly the toughest job to land. However it was money, and given that I had just decided to move out of home (and in with the girl whose attractions had so distracted me, so maybe it wasn’t just the drink), money mattered in a big way now as I had bills.

From there, I got promoted within a week, and that was the beginning of a long and varied path to where I am today. Although I do look back on that moment as pivotal in my life, and it’s one of those where the “If you could do one thing differently” question raises its head, as I have mentioned before, I don’t regret it. It would have changed a great many things in my life I’m sure, but that’s not my story now.  It’s done. I’m happy now.

Despite this, the reason I relate this story, and I have told this to my son as well, is to illustrate how one stupid decision (and lets face it, sitting up all night before you’re about to start a new job is pretty stupid, whatever the “excuse”), can change the course of a person’s life. Fortunately for me, it worked out ok in the end and it only really affected me.

The kind of bad decisions I really worry about my son making, are the ones like taking a drink and getting behind the wheel of a car, or not having the ability to say “No” to his friends, when every sane bone in his body should be screaming at him that what he’s getting involved with is wrong.

The kind of things that really have to take-backs, no do-over’s, it’s done. The problem is, you can tell your children all day long, but at the end of the day, there’s no reason they are likely to be any smarter than you or I were at that age. It’s kinda tough to explain to them how little they really know, especially as they progress though the dangerous teenage years with temptations of alcohol, drugs and sex lying there in front of them. That's a big part of why we came up with GenForward, to have the answers there for them without having to ask directly. You might not be lucky enough to get the question from them till after it's too late so some advice beats none.

They are already struggling to create their own personality and be their own person. Old enough to think they know everything, yet young enough to know next to nothing. Well, that was me at least and, though the world has changed a great deal since those times; people haven’t so much I think.