Making Greg, America
I was born in Iowa in the 50’s. Dad was a minister, and Mom was a “housewife” and minister’s wife – two full-time jobs.They had 4 kids in 6 years, but then 8 years later I was their happy accident. While I was in the hospital, my three baby-sitters in waiting lobbied, in writing, to use my middle name Greg. We already had one Ralph, after all. The first day in college involved roll-calls using the full name used on my application and ID card. From that day, I was Ralph. So it’s about half and half now. I played my siblings’ rock and roll 45’s endlessly. I took piano lessons. I read tons of books and enjoyed math and science. Then the Beatles happened. And Batman happened. And comics happened. From age 10, I was an only child, and we moved to Mankato, Minnesota, where I was the new kid and got pushed around the first year or two. Or three. No longer the new kid, just a small kid.
Education was important in the family and in the states we lived in. Looking back, I had good teachers, and a good curriculum in both states. I visited my sisters at their college, and found it exciting and worthy of aspiration. In High School, I debated, in and out of class and competitively, and studied hard and got into a good college 3 hours away, St. John’s University. I was a fairly serious student in the Pre-Med sequence, but by Senior Year, I was well on my way to underachievement, aiming to become a professional musician. That ended 3-months after graduating.
I’ve spent most of my adult life wandering through retail entrepreneurship, with marginal success, meandering briefly into engineering, bookkeeping, and a stint at public speaking while driving, as a small group tour guide into Yosemite and Wine Country from San Francisco. I’ve always found a way to keep intellectual challenge in the forefront of my experience, mostly for personal enjoyment, if not for personal employment. In my latter years, I have decided that my education will no longer be under-utilized. Nay, I have the gall to think someone else may wish to hear or read what I have to say or write. We’ll see, won’t we.