Who Am I

Who Am I

Born 4:30 in the morning of February 20^th 1949 in Oceanside NY. I was the 1^st grand child of both my mother’s and father’s parents and of course I was male (this was considered a good thing back then). I was what I now call a "golden child". I was the center of the family’s attention, that was until my sister had to come along and spoil things two and a half years later. However, I was still the oldest and still male. Now when you couple my being a 1^st tier baby boomer (translation: self absorbed) and being a golden child it’s a wonder anyone can stand to be around me for any time at all.

Three things I learned from my parents/family: 1 – Self-reliance: as in do things yourself and only ask for help if you are desperate and then only from family or those you trust. 2- "Be the labor great or small, do it well or not at all." (I lean toward the latter choice). This was my Dad’s favorite saying. 3 – It is my task/responsibility to keep the children in Europe from starving by making sure I eat everything on my plate. If there is an over population problem over there I am partially responsible.

There are 2 world events that were larger than any other event and they were WWII – or the "WAR", and the depression of the 30’s – the "Depression". Of course with my grandparents there was also the "Great War", WWI.

I was considered a good and responsible child, the kind other kids' mothers liked. One of the few things I continually got in trouble for was I had to know why all decisions were made. If someone thought something different from me, I needed to know why. If my parents came to a decision on something that effected me and I did not agree I felt they were obligated to explain why. I was generally OK once I knew why. Of course I was less OK about that as a teenager. This is something that still gets me into trouble today with Kris.

So I pretty much had a boring (to the reader), happy, and safe childhood with happily married parents, a stay at home mom, a dad that played with me when he got home, and a sister who was pretty much just in the way. This of course was my child’s eye view of the situation. I played sports most of my free time and given the choice I liked to play against others who were just a little bit better than myself. Luckily for me, there always seemed to be an unlimited number of kids who were better than me.

In 1958 my brother joined the family. My mom refers to him as Mr. Perfect. As Coach from Cheers said of his wife beauty - my brother has never been comfortable with his "perfectness". He has since married, and consequently has learned that perfect is indeed not one of his many good traits.

I was entered into high school in the fall of 63 and was released in June of 67. I am sure there was something worth mentioning about my high school years. Maybe someday, I will realize what that is. To paraphrase Grace, those who remember the 60's didn't really experience the 60's. However, I hadn't even discovered drugs at this juncture and besides the 60's she was referring to were just starting in 67, at least for me. If I don't remember anything soon, I'll just make something up and add it later. Hell, if you know me well enough to know about my high school years you don't need to read this anyway.

1967 I went off to college. This wasn’t my idea, I wanted a year or two off from school. My father kept telling me it was one of his dreams to send his children to college, something he gave up due to the "WAR". I became involved in the anti-Vietnam war movement due to my affiliation with some civil rights activities I had been involved in. I was a bit late getting into the anti-war thing. It was my father's fault. He was against the war and I was teenager. How could I take a stance that agreed with my father? I learned later that if I coupled being against the war with being against the draft I could still be at odds with good old dad. In 1967/1968 in the Mid-West and just about every where else being against the war was not a popular stance. This became popular at most college campuses in 1968/1969. However, I didn’t stick around waiting to be popular. Being a self-absorbed, center-of-attention-trained young person I was not used to having to wait for others to see things my way, so I left school. Since I was prime draft bait, I headed to Toronto Canada, a country close by and somewhat sympathetic to people such as myself (a "pinko commie agitator" in the words of Archie Bunker as well as others).

Uncle Sam came looking for me. After much deliberation with family, friends and even church leaders, the hiding place I chose was the USAF where I became an electronics repairman with an attitude. I repaired navigation equipment on "spy planes". They let me out a year early. I actually achieved the rank of Staff Sargent although I was busted along the way for being AWOL. I also received lots of, shall we say, additional attention for what they called a bad attitude. I didn’t think it was attitude as much as I just voiced an opinion that was less than popular and possibly some of my comments could be construed as the smart-ass variety. They seemed to get particularly upset when I would ask "what are you gonna do draft me?" upon their indicating I might be in line for an additional penalty if I didn't shape up.

May of 1972 I was released from active duty and for me it was like getting out of jail or maybe a bad marriage. Well I've had 3 marriages but can't say any of them were bad. Luckily for me my last, Kris has so far decided to keep me. She has somehow turned me into a decent person, well maybe that's a stretch but that's the way I like to think of it. But I digress - I got out of the Air Force a year early by trading some active duty for Air National Guard Duty in Schenectady, New York where I also spend a year at Hudson Valley Community College in Troy, New York - aka "Happy Valley" - the school not the town. This is 1972/1973 so you should be able to guess the meaning of the reference.

I decided to attend University of Oregon based on advice from friends, the Underground Guide to American colleges, and a visit to rural Oregon (near Medford). Eugene is a great college town. I got to grow my hair long and philosophize about the state of man and the problems with the government. I leaned to give up meat, to backpack, that using a swim suit was no longer necessary, and that maybe "free love" was an oxymoron.

Upon graduation from Oregon I was penniless, so I moved to SF where a good friend of mine lived. I moved in with him and lived on my credit card until I found a job. I spent 10 years in Silicon Valley working for start up companies as a software developer. It was tons of fun if not very stable. I’ve worked for at least 3 companies that no longer exist, maybe more and have been through 3 layoffs. Two of them I was let go where they virtually eliminated the company, the 3rd my job was likely saved due to EEOC rules and that my salary was below the company average for the position I was in. Seemed kind of cheating to have the EEOC working for me. The intent was to help those who were being discriminated against when people like me were being hired/promoted over them. Just goes to show the problem with following the letter of the law rather than the intent. After all I was the guy born with all the advantages. I had had another job, just after I got out of the Air Force where they tried to remove all those employees of color by laying off all of us and then attempting to hire back just the employee's of no color. I personally took it a an insult, I had worked hard all summer to get a pretty good tan, telling me I was without color was crossing the line, I told them no thanks.

Finally I met Kris. We fell in love, got married, moved to stable Sacramento and got me a cushy government job, or so I thought. I found that I work just as hard, things just don't get there (as in implemented) as fast. Of course I don't do anything as fast as I once did.

I have reached what's called by some as Act II, or what formerly was referred to as “Senior” status, I seem to be in fairly good order and have many wonderful memories and friends. Maybe you are one of them. I still feel like I’m 25 except my body, on a fairly regular basis, and in rather annoying ways, tells me differently. Couldn’t have been those drugs, could it?

Hey, now you know more about me than I do. ………Dave