The dull and boring story of Gregg

I am Gregg, author of this website. I was born on August 6, 1945, the day we dropped the Atomic Bomb on Hiroshima. It was a day of infamy in more ways than one. My birth site was Sampson Naval Air base in New York [now just Sampson, along one of the Finger Lakes]. Before my first birthday, we moved to NYC [the Brooklyn Naval Yard, to be more exact]. Evidently, dad went to sea and mom decided to pack up the car and drive to dad's parent home in North Dakota. Why not!? Mom has always been quite feisty and it was just a short drive....

ND didn't treat mom all that well. Dad's older brother, Jim, was especially rude to that city girl from NY. After some time, dad left the Navy and joined us in ND. He sold appliances for Western Auto. They built a small house there in ND. Dad didn't really like the job and/or ND. He came home one day and announced that he had joined the Army [I guess that's where I got that!]. We packed up and took off for Fort Knox, Kentucky. I'm guessing that was 1947 because mom said she was pregnant with Dawn at the time. After about two years, dad was selected for OCS [Officer's Candidate School] and we went to Georgia [Fort Benning] for that [1949?]. Then dad was transferred to Fort Breckenridge, Ky which mom reported was the worst Fort she ever saw. There was an oil rig in the front yard and we had no furnace in the house. Every room in the house had a fireplace and mom said she spent all her time carrying firewood... She was not a happy camper.

Dad, in the meantime, was training soldiers for combat [Korea]. It was reported to me by someone who knew dad at the time that he was a PE instructor and used to do 100, one-arm pushups [either arm] so he could better watch the troops... Dad was one of those guys with 17" biceps. I never did beat him in arm wrestling although I did get to the point where he could no longer beat me.... I was in Catholic school at the time, and was an alterboy. It must have been about 1951. At some point, dad went to Korea and we went to Louisville, Ky. I think we lived there for about a year. The only thing I remember about this time is that I got a BB gun and used to hunt birds.

One day mom announced we were going to Japan to be with dad. We boarded a train which took us to Seattle, Wa. where we boarded a ship which took us across the Pacific to Tokyo. Mom was sick the entire trip. You might say she never got her sea legs! In the meantime, I had a ball [meaning, I suppose, that I had the run of the ship]. I recall that we were in a storm at one point and the crew had gathered all the furniture in the open areas and tied them to the support poles. This became my "fort" and was a great playground. It must have been 1952-53.

To mom's great relief, we finally arrived in Japan. However, her misery was not over. She hated it there. We boarded a train in Tokyo and headed north to the northeast coast of Japan [Camp Hogan]. For some reason, known only to the Japanese, the fish cars were ahead of the passenger cars and the smell coming back through the train was horrible. Mom was sick again! Perhaps, the majority of the passengers were American, and the Japs were trying to torture us for what we did on my birth date!

At Camp Hogan, we lived in Army quarters and went to school in a quanset hut. We had a Japanese maid named Hana. As you might imagine, the Japanese didn't care much for us in 1953. Mom was particularly aware of this and was never comfortable there. Add to that the fact that on a clear day we could see Russia across the waters. It was a very tense time for mom.

After about nine months [I think], things heated up with the Russians and all dependents [that's what the Army called us] were ordered back to the States. Mom, Dawn and I went to San Francisco where we lived for about a year until dad joined us there. It must have been 1956 when we left San Francisco, headed to Ayer, Massachusetts. The way I estimate the year is that dad bought a 1956 Olds Super 88 [a leftover] and that's what we drove. At every stop along the way, I insisted that we play Tennessee Ernie Ford's "Sixteen Tons", which was popular at the time. I remember that we took the southern route, through Texas, on to northern Florida, and then up the eastern seaboard. It must have been winter.

I know that I was in the seventh grade in Massachusetts because I remember that I made the honor roll there and mom was way too proud. We had a dog named Rover [the third I think] and I took up the 'sport' of fishing. I would load up my bike everyday and head off to my favorite local spots. At some point, mom made me take Dawn with me [a huge spoiler]. One day, I was trying to get unhooked from something on the bottom of the pond and my pole snapped! It was a new pole that I had received for my birthday [10]. I was so scared to tell Dad that to avoid it, I suddenly stopped fishing completely. Dad never did find out....

Then dad got a new assignment [what's new?] and off he went to Orleans, France. We followed a few months later, much to mom's dismay. She did not relish going to another foreign country. In fact, you might say, she hated the idea!

I, on the other hand, found France to be very likeable. This was especially true when I got my first motorbike [49.9 whole cc's]. I rode many miles on my little two wheeler and enjoyed a freedom that very few 13 year olds had. We left France in July of 1960, headed for Philadelphia, Pa.

Dad took command of the Army Reserve Training Center in Horsham, Pa. and I found myself in a high school that had about 5,000 students. All-in-all, it was quite a shock after living in France. In the middle of the 10th grade, we picked up and moved across the river to Burlington, NJ. Dad retired from the Army with 22 years of combined service. Even though Dad and Mom moved off to Ohio before I graduated, I stayed with the family of my best friend, Chris Lawrence, until the day after graduation when I was dragged, kicking and screaming to "hick country".

My biggest disappointment during high school came on the day I announced that I was applying to 3 or 4 universities. That was the same day I was informed that "we can't afford that". Up to that time, I always assumed I would go to college.    Hummm, what to do now!

Separated from all my friends and thrust into a state I despised [the east coast was the center of any intellectual life in the U.S.], I generally withdrew from humanity and turned inward. I went to work for Dad and his brother doing custom home construction. I had applied for the Navy Annapolis extension program and listed my desired major as Philosophy. Evidently the Navy had no use for philosophy majors and I was not accepted into the program. The next year, I re-applied and listed my desired major as Mathematics. That was more acceptable, and I was accepted into the full scholarship program. In the fall of 1964, I headed to Villanova as a Midshipman.

My experience at Villanova was a disappointing one. I found there was no comradery as you would expect at Annapolis. Villanova was 98% catholic which put me in the minority. I really didn't like Math as a major. And, being a military officer was Dad's dream, not mine. When they told me I couldn't get married until after graduation, I resigned. In the spring of 1965, I married Linda Kay Klein in Dayton, Ohio. I got a job with General Motors [Frigidaire], working in the factory, in November. I had decided I wanted to be an airline pilot and got a private pilot's license. Then I bought an airplane and starting working on my commercial license.

After awhile, I came to see a pilot as a glorified bus driver. Flying became boring. I quit, sold the plane, and decided it was time to go back to college. Still not knowing what the heck I wanted to do in life, I signed up as an English major. The idea was to become a college professor. When it became clear that that path would require a master's degree and a PHD [after the first year], I decided it was time to switch, but to what??? The only thing that seemed to make practical sense was business. I became a management major. Since I never did find out what I wanted to be, I did graduate with a B.S. in Management in 1973. For all of that time, I was a full-time employee, and for most of the time, I was a full-time student as well [up to 15 credit hours at a time]. I was also a father, a homeowner, and did all my own maintenance on our 2-3 cars.       Thank Goodness for Youth!

None of this is what I recommend. I did it all the hard way and it's a pretty sad story. The truth is, I never, ever, found a counselor who was worth a *$^%. The one they assigned me to told me I had signed up for too many hours. You should only take 6 at a time, she said, not 12. Like I would EVER finish at that rate! I blew her off right away and made my own path. During this college process, I had moved into computer operations for General Motors [a story of it's own].

In early December of 1968, a buddy of mine in the old factory [Larry Rammel] told me there were openings in computer operations. I told him I didn't know the front of a computer from the rear. He said, "no problem, all you need is two years of college". A couple days later, it was raining at the end of the work day and I had ridden my motorcycle to work. Riding home in the rain wasn't an appealing idea, so I thought, what the heck! I went over to the employment office and announced I wanted to apply for computer operations. After an extensive interviewing day, I got the job [so did Larry]. On the first working day of 1969, I became a computer operator. Most important, I left the union and became a salaried employee. My spirits were high!

No more equality of pay! As a salaried employee, I would be rewarded based on my performance. For the first time since my second month with General Motors, I had hope for the future. I worked my butt off [you probably can't tell that today]. I ran from computer to computer, keeping 3 to 4 of them humming all night long [second shift]. In addition, I attacked the self-improvement courses that management recommended with vigor, completing all of them in the first six months. At that time I learned that no one had ever completed all of them before [at that site]. With the end of my first year coming up, I was full of expectation. When the yearly increases came in, I was shocked. Larry and I got the exact same raise even though there was a huge difference in performance.      I was not happy.... So much for 'pay for performance'. Once again, I was disgusted with GM and the workforce in general.

I spent the first nine years of my work life pretty much hating my job, and I still didn't know what I wanted to do when I grew up. As I neared graduation from college, and in desperation, I went back to the counselors. "How can I find out work that I like?" They suggested a test. Whoopie!

The test had nothing to do with aptitude. It was oriented to the interests of people in different careers. The results were shocking. My interests were most aligned with lawyers and computer programmers! Well, I didn't see law in my future, and I had frowned upon programming for years! Who would want to sit behind a desk all day and crank out code??? Certainly not me!

They had offered programming jobs to me a couple times during the prior couple years. I always said 'no thanks' and gave the reason that I didn't want a job where I had to think all day while going to college. After all, I had spent most of nine years trying to get out of GM. But, with no real options that I liked, I finally decided to give it a try.

Much to my surprise, I fell in love with programming. It was so logical and system thinking was me! It was the first time I ever liked my job. In my first year they made me the leader of a small team. We were successful. My projects were typically 'on time' and 'under budget' [not exactly typical in GM]. The projects got bigger as time went on. I became 'the expert' in many things. Life was good.

Somewhere in the 1978 timeframe, I was assigned to a new project for inventory control. It involved creating barcoded labels for products and then using forklift mounted scanners to move the products through the factory and into shipping. It was big. It was fun. And, the team was very successful. At one point, I worked a 36 hour day, went back to the hotel and slept for 4-5 hours and went back for another 24 hours of work. Right in the middle of the congratulations, a couple of the people on the project came to me and requested a meeting with the team in the back room.      Oh, oh.

They told me they felt that they didn't even know how we had succeeded. They didn't feel the success because I had made it happen [with or without them]. It was a huge shock to me but as I thought about it, they were right. I always felt there was nothing they could break, such that I couldn't fix it. My projects were successful because I forced them to be, and that wasn't very satisfying to the team members. Change was required! I had to stop being super-programmer and become a manager / leader. In the next project, I took my best person aside and told him "this is the heart of this system. If it works, the whole system works. It's your's!" --- I did very little programming on that project, and guess what --- it was a success. Later I became a site manager and account manager which I did for several years. But the job was never as much fun as it had been running projects....

As a site manager, I found myself responsible for all kinds of people [keypunch, analysts, admins, PC support, etc.]. In Columbus, Ohio I found myself [indirectly] responsible for dozens of personal computers. Guess what --- I had no use for PCs! They were toys and I had never seen any good use for them [I was a mainframe bigot!]. But, there they were! Even though I hated them, and had no training on them whatsoever, I soon became 'the expert'. I spent many hours a day, training myself so I could get the people who were responsible for them up to snuff. I never saw so much complaining and bellyaching in a GM plant as what I saw about PCs. The GM people expected us to be PC experts, even though we were strictly mainframers. It took several years for the PC/mainframe war to work itself out within GM. I'm sure I hated PCs for at least 5 years.