When I was about ten I was sure I was going to grow up to be a scientist. Although not sure what a scientist did-other than wear a lab coat and muck around with computers and lab equipment-I felt that since only the smartest people were scientists according to my TV viewing, that was where I should pursue a career. Later on I was determined to be a writer (novelist, or poet, naturally) or a rock star (equally conversant in rock, folk, and New Wave, of course), and with each change of desired destination I modified my dreams and fantasies.
What I have actually become is a little more complicated, however, and a testament to Robert Burns' famous line "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley". Not that I really planned my path in any sort of organized fashion, just pointed myself in the basic direction I wanted, settled my lance unsteadily over my arm like Don Quixote, and set off at a ramble.
Somehow I wandered into the unsteady world of restaurants. Well, not hard to understand how I ended up there-the job which was putting me through school rewarded my diligence and hard work with raises and promotions, and soon I found that I could (almost) feed my growing family on what a restaurant manager earned.
But I always kept the belief that I was destined to do something else, something other, something "greater". Only making time there for a while until my wife could finish college and then I would have breathing room to figure out what I wanted to do. Needed to do. Was destined to do.
About seven years ago, with my wife's career beginning to gain traction, we were able to spring me out of the restaurant world. Out of working primarily nights. Of working every holiday, every weekend. The most heartbreaking and frustrating 10 minutes of your day is ironing your shirt on a sunny Saturday afternoon and leaving for work when your wife and kids are playing and laughing, knowing you will not be home until two or three in the morning and come into a silent house. The birds never sing so sweetly, the sun never shines so brightly as it does at 2 o'clock on a Saturday afternoon when you are on the way to work.
Again without a real plan, I fell into the world of sales. Absent a real idea of what I wanted to do, I took a chance on commissions and chargebacks and renewals and premiums. Yep-the real sales. Hard core. Insurance sales, person-to-person, cold calling from a phone book, knocking on doors, working existing clients. Driving around to meet with people who left the house ten minutes before I arrived, or hid behind the curtains, or told me to call back in a week and never answered the phone. Did quite well in direct sales, as a matter of fact, well enough to rise from agent to manager of the entire office's sales force in just two years.
Later on I was recruited into another profession-I was hired on the strength of a friend's recommendation to be sales manager at a huge cemetery, in charge of the group selling cemetery lots and funerals and caskets and vaults and such. It was an easier transition than you might think, since my skills and experience at talking to people and resolving complicated issues built up over all those years in restaurant management and direct sales gave me a base for success.
Somewhere along the line I stopped defining myself by what I did for a living and started just being me. Not sure when this happened, it was certainly not a sudden realization, but I focused less and less on what I did and more on who I am. I have been lucky enough to have done well in several different fields, to have risen through the ranks through merit (and a goodly amount of luck, I admit) and to work with lots of great people. But none of my jobs has thoroughly defined me. I'm just Jeff.
Which brings me to my present classification. Moving out here to Houston, we were fortunate enough to figure out a plan to have one of us work and the other stay at home to keep the house and the kids on track, and to take care of cooking and cleaning and shopping and the million errands that must be run each week. And with Stacey really doing well in her engineering specialty here in the center of the petroleum and natural gas industry, it turned out to be me this time. After six months I took a part-time job driving a school bus to get me out of the house and interact with somebody other than my dogs each day, but still leave summers and weekends and school breaks free.
From cook to manager to insurance to cemetery sales to driving a bus and being Mr. Mom, I've taken jobs as they have come. Although I have never sat down and mapped out a strategy for success, I think I've done well. I've supported my family while my wife studied engineering and gotten established in her field. I've moved up through the ranks in several companies. I've met many people over the years, some of whom really influenced me and taught me about life, about people, about hard work and attention to detail and keeping focused.
What will the next twenty years bring? I'm keeping my options open.
As usual.
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