Verse 2 - Make Hay When the Sun Shines

This post is a continuation of The Bowery Station Story.

Lisa is a smart woman. (Well, she married me, right?)  Having almost a full degree in accounting under her belt, and after having taken a pause from higher ed, she made the bold decision to return to College for a degree in education.  Her perseverance impressed me.  It made me think about my own development.  At the time, I ran a collection of small businesses, from DJing weddings, to building decks and lofts for College kids, to taking photos with Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny in area malls. I worked radio, even dabbled in flying, and worked the doors at area bars.  Of course, I had to dabble in politics, at one point even serving on the Burlington City Council.

While individually this odd assortment of seasonal endeavors seemed insignificant, collectively it made some good coin, and I enjoyed serious flexibility with my time.   I had a ski pass and two golf memberships...and more importantly, the chance to use them.  I could even break away to the Keys two or three times a year, or deer camp, or disappear for lost weekends in Montreal, Boston or New York.   Yes, admittedly, I was a jack of all trades, and most obviously... a master of none....but it was a decent lifestyle.

A bit off topic at this point, but very important to note.  One yearly endeavor I enjoyed was working in Jamaica as a DJ for college kids in March.  It was the heyday of MTV in Negril on Spring Break... and I was one of the boys at the helm of the mixing board coordinating drinking and other competitive collegiate events!  On one such jaunt, I acquired a ball cap from a drunken Ball State University student.  It read... BSU.  I wore it religiously back home for years.  Never had I adorned myself with a shirt, or cap that garnished so much attention.... almost to a person, people would noticed the hat and comment on it...they were fascinated, both with the BS, and the BS...U.   BS in my mind had begun.  Over the years I had dabbled in the potential of running a bar here or there, but I realized even then... if I ever really did, it would have to have a name whose initials were BS!

So why in the world would anyone ruin a flexible life with no real commitments, right?

Well, I had a good amount of learnin' under my belt, but nothing that amounted to a degree.  I had started at Cornell, but Electrical Engineering is as dry as it gets, so I dabble in other degrees at UVM and St. Michael's College.  I even, at one point tried to mix a more exciting degree with warm weather, and spent a semester at Embry-Riddle in Daytona learning to fly.  Hell, being in College and on Spring Break full time...sounded right up my alley.  Then I saw the student loans piling up and decided to finish my Commercial rating at a small FBO in VT.  However, evaluating the prospects of trying to pile up flight hours at $6 as an instructor compared with DJing a wedding on the weekends for what at the time was a couple of hundred bucks....and a full week off to ski and golf....I intuitively put flying on the back burner as well.

But time had passed, and I yearned for a profession that might garner more respect and potential.  I felt that the growing tech scene was slipping by me and I needed to know more.  So, inspired by Lisa who was ardently pursuing her goals of teaching, and with all my amassed scattered credits... and the knowledge I could eek out an Associates degree in a year...I slipped my way up the frozen hill to Champlain College, and signed up for another tour of doodie!  Hell, I had been to four colleges, why not make it five.  For the record, having attended Cornell, and Champlain, I can unequivocally state...Champlain is by far a better institution of learning... by far. All those Ivy lagers never matched up to a hometown brew.  Don't fall for the hype, learn something tangible.

A year passed and we both found that we had dun gradeated.  I'm sure taking seventeen years and five schools to earn an Associate Degree made my parents proud in comparison to the other Doctors and such they had raised.  Lisa took a job teaching at my former grade school, oddly teaching the children of my former grade school classmates.  Nothing spoke more to time slipping by than knowing Lisa was having parent teacher conferences with the girl, now woman, I had taken to my 8th grade graduation dance.  The concept of how fast time flies was finally thrust in our faces...and I felt like an old fart in my mid thirties.

Stay tuned as The Bowery Station Story unfolds in the next episode.... Hello Heidelberg!! Welcome to the real world.