Career Autobiography - Part 1: Prologue

I thought that it might be interesting to reflect a bit on my career path after High School.

When I graduated from high school, I had no idea of what I wanted to do in life.  I had very little initiative, training, or connections to get a decent job.  Furthermore, I had no idea how to go about getting a decent job.  There was no money for college, and I had little aptitude for that anyway.

As a result, I worked some jobs that were not that great:  Window washer, short-order cook, school janitor, and after-hours bar cleaner.  Of all those jobs, only the school janitor job came with some benefits, like paid sick time - but the job itself was absolutely unrewarding.  Probably about 90% of the money that I earned at those lower-end jobs was spent on car payments, car insurance, car repairs, and fuel. 

 

Even at the tender age of 19, I was keenly aware that I was on track for a lifetime of endless drudgery and near-poverty.  I took a shot at college, but found college to be even more awful in its drudgery than the jobs I was then working.  This situation lasted for about a year after high school. 

By chance, I was invited to a gathering for an acquaintance who had joined the Navy and was home on leave.  I mostly was struck by his happiness and self-confidence, his uniform, and his mid-winter suntan.  These were just some casual observations I made, before forgetting about him and the gathering.  I did *not* go visit the Navy recruiter the following day.  That event would require more serious nudging.  I never ever intended to, or even considered going into the military.

At the time I was still living with my mother.  This rent-free arrangement was what allowed me to spend 90% of my meager earnings on money-gobbling British sports cars.  However, my mother had come to the conclusion that her pension was barely going to provide a cat-food level retirement.  She decided that she had better find a high-paying job.  She eventually found a very high income job - in Japan.

At about the same time my mother decided to relocate halfway around the world, I was working another dead-end job.  This job was as a short-order cook in a Denny's type restaurant near the Boise airport.  As the newest cook, I was assigned to the worst hours:  Friday and Saturday nights, and opening most weekdays.  I'd get there at 4:00 AM to get the fryer and griddle hot, and the place would open at 5:00.  The head cook would arrive at 7:00.  I think I had Wednesdays and Thursdays off.  At some point, one of the other cooks quit, but my shift didn't improve.  The new cook got the better hours.

I got called out to work several times on my days off - always to open at 4:00 AM on a Wednesday or Thursday for the head cook.  The first few times that happened, I came in and covered.  The last couple of times they tried to call me in to work extra, I told them no.  The manager called me in one day and fired me.  The reason given:  I wasn't putting the little sprigs of parsley on the plates 100% of the time.  Treated like crap, and then kicked to the curb like a dog... allegedly over parsley sprigs!  I was quite devastated. 

I didn't realize it, but this was a major turning point.  In retrospect, this was one of the best days of my life.

I was newly unemployed in the worst US recession since the Great Depression (at that time), and I was soon going to lose my rent-free housing arrangement.  At this point, I decided there wasn't much alternative to joining the military, because I didn't see any opportunities present in Boise.

Without putting a great deal of thought into it, I decided that I wanted to leave Boise for good and see the world.  In order to see the world, I figured, the Navy would be the best branch to accomplish that.  Quite possibly, in the back of my mind, I wanted to be *that* Navy guy at the gathering of friends and acquaintances.  However, the financial reality of the situation was the real driver of the path that I followed.

I visited the Navy recruiter, and returned home with a stack of glossy pamphlets.  The pamphlets explained the various jobs the Navy offered training for.  I found it a little off-putting that the detail in the pamphlets was so skimpy.  Surely not every job is wonderful and exciting, but that's what the recruiting pamphlets showed - regardless of the job.

The recruiter scheduled me to take the ASVAB test:  The Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery.   This is an aptitude test, and the different sections at the time tested Mathematics, Spatial Perception, Tool Knowledge, General Information, Attention to Detail, and Coding Speed.
"Coding Speed" back then did not not refer to software programming, but to how many simple math operations you could correctly perform in a 5 minute period.

I took the exam, and after grading it, the recruiter was really excited.  He told me that I could have the choice of any field in the pamphlets he had already sent home with me.  But he also insisted that I take the Navy Advanced Placement Test, to see if I could get into the Nuclear Propulsion Program.  He said that was a really awesome training program, which most people don't even qualify for.  I took that test, and passed it as well.

At this point, the recruiter was in car salesman mode.  All smiles, and he said that it was a rare guy who got into the nuclear field.  He informed me that nukes had the largest re-enlistment bonus in the Navy, and that if I volunteered for submarine service, I would receive extra pay.  I was completely unaware that by recruiting a nuke, he received credit for recruiting two people.

To my recently fired and soon-to-be-homeless self, that sounded pretty good.

I signed up.

For Nuclear Power Training.  And the submarine service.

Part 2 is here: