The Crossroads Between Need and Desire
Once upon a time if you asked a kid what they wanted to be when they grew up you’d get answers like “policeman” or “scientist.” I’m sure nowadays it’s YouTuber, Streamer, or Sentient Minecraft Block.
Unfortunately for me, I still don’t know the answer to this question. I’ve got two options on the table and roughly six months to pick. But first, to make any of it make sense, we need to go back to the halcyon days of 19-mumblemumble.
Chapter 1
I was the unplanned, unwanted side effect of a single night of passion.
This meant a lot of things, not least of which that my mother wasn’t prepared to have a child. She worked for Planned Parenthood and they were not interested in having an unwed mother on staff. It didn’t really fit the image of the brand.
This meant I arrived into the world with a parent who had no aspirations, no savings, and no job. An auspicious start.
But I’m not here to talk shit about my mom. Whatever other disagreements we’ve had, which are many, she realized that she had a duty to the life she’d brought into this world, and that led her to go back to school. She got an associates of nursing, and spent the entire rest of her career as a geriatric care nurse.
Why? It’s what my grandmother had done. And, to quote my mom, quoting my nana, “go into nursing and you’ll never receive a pink slip in your life.”1
For whatever semblance of success I’ve achieved in life, know this. I got here by a combination of clawing my way out of the dirt from whence I came, mentors who took kindly and saw potential in me, and an inexhaustible font of luck.
I learned many things in my misspent youth. Several of them things I would need to go on to un-learn in pursuit of success. But key among them, the importance of steady and reliable work. There is not one member of my family who could provide me with a safety net. When I almost became homeless again in my 20s, only the grace of a family friend spared me.
As a consequence, I’ve never had the luxury of batting for the fences. Following your passion is great advice for the middle-class with a parent’s basement you could land softly in if you fail. If you’ve ever wondered why I didn’t go found Facebook, or any of a thousand other things, this is why. Because even when I lived in an RV, I had no interest in sleeping in my car.
Chapter 2
I signed a contract to work in the video game industry on the literal day of my 18th birthday, not even having graduated High School. And it was awful. I have not one nice thing to say about it. Technically I shipped production code for an MMO. There’s a slim chance you’ve even played it.
The video game industry was, and still is, a wildly abusive place to work. People do it for the love of the game. They do it because they’re passionate about what they do. Not knowing any better, I ran from it. I spent the next 10 years, give or take, trying to do anything else.
I managed an arcade.
I did data analysis for the American Red Cross.
I did IT for a public university.
And importantly, I spent as much money as the government would let me floating around community college. Trying to figure out any other option for what I could do with my life. Anything except work with computers.
Which is why I was able to accrue basically every associates degree they offered, in a wide variety of topics. I think it’s plausible that I took all of the classes. All of them. Which was fascinating and I absolutely would do for the rest of my life if I could get paid to do it. Just audit 100 and 200 level community college classes. It’s the best.
But when the money started to run dry, it became obvious that I needed to pick exactly one thing, and it needed to be something I could stick with. So I picked the safe thing. The thing that I knew I could do, and which would keep me employed. I transferred up to a state university, and I got my degree in Computer Science.
And there’s the thing. I am good at it. My mother tells an apocryphal story about a time when she was in college and a professor set me up on a jailed terminal to keep me busy, and not five minutes later I had broken out.
Ladies and gentlemen I’ve been hackin’ since I was three.
From 286s I scrounged together from trash my grade school was throwing away, to a Kaypro 4 that my mom managed to find used from a coworker. I’ve been tinkering on computers in any way I could as long as I could. I knew BASIC in 5th grade. I was fluent in C++ in 8th. I wrote a MUD for my senior project.
The purpose of this is not to toot my own horn, although a think some occasional horn-tooting is valid. It’s to try to establish a crumb of bona fides in a forum where I’ve generally avoided mentioning anything about what it is that I do to provide economic value. As much as I wish I were the idle rich, I am not. I am a certified computer toucher.
But see here’s the thing. While young-me thoroughly enjoyed the mysteries of the thinking-sand-box, adult-me mostly hates the blasted things.
If I could figure out a way to make a living without ever turning on another computer in my life, without a significant degradation of quality of life from all the online friends I’d never talk to again? Dear reader I would reenact the fax machine scene from Office Space on every computer within a 10km radius.
I have slowly been turning into Jubal Harshaw for about three decades with no sign of stopping now.
Because I got backed into a wall by the limits of financial aid I “failed up” into a successful career as a computer toucher, which I have spent my nights and weekends trying to break free from ever since.
Chapter 3
Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that I have two career paths in front of me.
On the one hand, I could become President of Earth. On the other hand, I could become an Astronaut.
Yes these are metaphors.
There’s a lot to recommend President of Earth. With great power comes great responsibility, and great compensation. It represents the safe path, but is also a path that brings no real joy. I would be in great company, the world is filled with talented, driven, creative people that just need to pay the mortgage.
As President of Earth, I would need to work longer hours, I would need to do many things I would not enjoy. But the satisfaction would come from the ways in which it would enable a comfortable life. In the knowledge that despite my upbringing, I climbed to the top. That I achieved to the very highest levels, despite it all. All the people who believed in me that I proved right. All the people who didn’t that I proved wrong.
It’s unlikely that I could become President of Earth and then abandon the post. While all things remain possible, it requires making commitments that will close other doors.
The alternative is becoming an Astronaut. To pursue with wild abandon a result that most people never attempt. And of those who try, most never succeed. It is to chase the thing which is clearly my true passion, or as close as I think I have to one.2
It would be a risk of the highest magnitude, with an uncertain end. But the chance that maybe, just maybe, I’d land among the stars.
However, to become an Astronaut I’d need to begin making changes. There would be a training regimen. A rocket must be constructed. For the next several years I would be engaged in the process of transforming myself into the kind of person who could go to space. That is wholly incompatible with the duties and responsibilities of President of Earth.
Importantly, I would also need to build a landing pad. Because if I did not launch successfully, I would need a net to catch me. The kind that I have never had before, and which stopped me from ever trying anything this audacious in the past.
The Grand Question
Few things in life are certain, and nothing is guaranteed. But for reasons outside my control I believe I will need to commit to one path or another in the near future. If only because dithering about one will close the door.
It does not mean that I’m planning any drastic changes (hi coworkers, if you’re reading this, I’m not planning to quit any time soon. I really like working where I work, inasmuch as I like working at all.)
What I’m really talking about is setting the trajectory for where I want to be in five to seven years. Because I don’t think I’ll be happy staying exactly where I am.
I either need to run for office, or start building a rocket, and it may be one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make.