Tech School Genius

My dad didn't go to college.  To hear him tell it, he was never really good at school anyway.  In fact, he often calls himself a lame brain and references a childhood fall from a tree onto his head as the reason.  But I know his secret.  I know he's really a genius.

Coming from a poor family, my dad had a lot of his decisions made by his circumstances rather than his own desires.  There was more of a need to survive, rather than dream.  I'm not sure he ever really allowed himself to imagine much further than the next day or the next week.  He's a realist - and at times a pessimist - but he's loyal, dedicated, and approaches life with a sense of duty.  That sense of duty led him to answer the call when drafted - to yet again do what he had to do rather than what he may have wanted to do - and spend two years in the Army, a stint which sent him around the world to Vietnam and, thankfully, back again.  By the time he returned, real life was already well on its way, and the days that were meant for dreaming were long gone.

My dad went on to tech school, became certified as an electrical mechanic, and spent well over thirty years working at the Anniston Army Depot, where he built and repaired various components in military equipment from tanks to missiles.  And while it may seem that he settled for less, I believe what he actually got was more.  He's never needed big, flashy things...he's only needed to work hard and provide for his family.  I think, in many ways, that was his greatest dream of all...and for him, it came true.  He doesn't have excess, but he has what he needs...and that's all he's ever wanted.

My dad tells me that I'm the one with the brains and the opportunity.  Maybe I do have the opportunity, but it's only because he and my mother have given it to me.  They've worked hard and sacrificed, so that I can follow my dreams, wild and flighty though they might be.  However, the true genius of the family is my dad.  I've known this for a long time, but I think I've only really come to appreciate it since I've returned home.

For the last three years, I've been out in California in universities and workplaces where I've been surrounded by highly educated men and women.  People who speak perfect English, wear business suits, and love to flash their prized possessions.  So far, none have compared to the intelligence of my father who, with his deep Southern drawl and camo work pants, can fix almost anything...or will at least give it an honest try.  In the three weeks since I've been home, he has repaired my bicycle, fixed the leg on a DVD stand, worked on the pipes leading to our toilet, and rewired the pump for our well (though he did call in a little help from a professional on that one).  And just last year, when his computer's motherboard died and he found he couldn't simply purchase another motherboard to replace it, he bought one that was not intended for that computer, rewired the plugs, installed it, and now the computer runs faster than it ever did before.  All I have to do is tell my dad something is not working, and he fiddles with it until he finds a way to fix it...and if he can't totally rectify the problem, he'll usually find a temporary fix until someone else can come in and make the necessary repairs.

Even beyond all that, my dad is a problem-solver, a self-taught engineer, and an inventor.  He has natural ingenuity and a type of perseverance and commitment that are rare in a society that wants what it wants instantly and doesn't have the patience to see things through.  But even more than they make him a Mr. Fix-It, I think these are the things that make my father a great dad.  He's involved, he's supportive (even when he doesn't always understand my flighty ambitions), and he's willing to get his hands dirty when necessary.  He goes above and beyond the call to be there when he's needed, and it's in that that he finds his self-worth.

I'm not downing the highly educated and the office dwellers.  Hey, I've been an educated office dweller myself...and hope to be again in the future.  But I think sometimes, we get so absorbed in the outward exhibitions of our intelligence that we forget to pay tribute to those who have quietly done what they had to in order to keep our wheels turning.  My dad isn't perfect, and he and I don't see eye to eye on a number of things...usually politics...but our differences only help to define our relationship, not to hamper it.  Living at home has been a challenge, but I'm thankful for this opportunity.  Once again, my dad has provided a haven to foster my imagination and my dreams.  And I'll be forever grateful for that.  

No, my dad isn't just a genius.  He's a tech school genius...and sometimes, that's the most valuable of all.