Too Late Smart?

I don’t know about you, but I thought of myself as somewhat of a mini-techie. Now, I am not sure what a mini-techie is or even if there is such a thing. In short, this is a person who is able not only to change a light bulb, but knows the difference between a one-way and a three-way bulb.

When drafted, I went from Minnesota to California for boot camp. We left Minneapolis at 20 degrees below zero and arrived in San Diego at eighty above. Half way through boots, I heard my name called. Warned never to volunteer for anything, I was hesitant but timidly reported in. There I was informed because of the scores on my aptitude test, I was being put into engineers school for four weeks. Yes, a mini-course to be sure.

What a break it was as I studied small engines and evaporators while the boys toughed it out on the grinders (huge concrete common areas for marching) and broiled under the hot sun. This propelled me onto a ship where I lucked out again and got topside duty where we had to maintain auxiliary engines and landing craft (including the captain’s gig). I knew very little but had the necessary boot camp credential.

Now, a zillion years later, I often wonder what went wrong (but right for me) when I took that aptitude test. Not long after the discharge, I inherited the twelve-year-old family car which I assume delivered about fifty miles per quart of oil. So, I decided to fix that engine and commandeered our garage and took it apart carefully putting all the parts in a precise sequence so I’d know how to put it back together.

This went well until I tightened a bolt too tight and sheared off the head. Not to worry. I went to the local garage (town of 2,000 inhabitants and not many garages). I found a bolt, same size and installed it. Then I tried to start the engine. No luck. I got a push. Still no luck. The engine was locked. So, I dismantled it again and removed the culprit, drove forty miles each way to the proper dealership and bought another bolt. This one had a head that was sheared so it would clear the crankshaft.

We were then off and running. But that was virtually the end of my mechanical engineering. Other studies occupied my attention such as history, philosophy and theology and gradually I became a theological engineer which had little or nothing to do with most mechanical woes.

Now that I have become an elderly citizen, I thought I had put away childish things. No such luck. My life has been riddled with complicated engineering challenges including programming complicated remotes, trying to figure out manuals written by geeks with illogical reasoning skills, managing my computers (for twenty years now and gets tougher all the time) and outguessing cell phone operations. I’m told I can do just about anything with my cell phone but I’ve got news for you. I can’t do much more than make a call, and if I do it right, receive a call.

My senior moment was slow in coming and finally arrived when it dawned on me that the further I get away from 1927 (when life was so simple), the more complicated life gets. I even quit trying to tune my own automobile remembering when we could usually fix one with a screwdriver, a pair of pliers, a piece of wire and some duct tape. So, if you have any similar senior moments, don’t despair. Your IQ hasn’t changed, only your world.