May your interests broaden

My father gave me a book as a birthday present with his inscription on the flyleaf. I think I was in high school, or maybe late junior high. The book was Edward Jablonski's Flying Fortress. At the time I was totally engrossed by Quinn Martin's Twelve O'Clock High television series (1964-1967) starring Robert Lansing.

  To Michael
  May your interests broaden.
                    Love, Dad 

I remember loving the Jablonski book but being a little confused about Dad's message—which I didn't then comprehend. Broaden my horizons? Why? What was wrong with having a single focus? Or two? With being infatuated by these "things?"

I also loved an older movie by the same name, Twelve O'Clock High (1949); bought all the Twelve O'Clock High comic books (boy, I wish I still had them now); read everything about B-17s in the library … and glued together so many 1/72nd-scale models of World War II aircraft that Dad helped me build a 3D diorama with them using a map of the European air theatre as background. It gained an honorable mention at the Western Washington State Fair and a certificate attesting my attention to detail.

At the time, I was "coming down" from a long spell when I breathed trains, ate trains, read nothing but trains, and wanted to ride every train, walk every track, and shoot pictures of every piece of railway equipment I could find. We'd only recently moved from Farmington, New Mexico, near the upper northwest corner of the state just 60 miles from a narrow gauge steam railroad, the Denver & Rio Grande Western.

Seattle was a sophisticated playground for an 11-year-old—I didn't have time to lament leaving my beloved slim gauge. The 1962 World's Fair put the city on the jet set map, as did the development of the Boeing 707 and 727 commercial jet aircraft, and the B-47 Stratojet and KC-135 jet tanker. The Beatles performed at the Seattle Center Coliseum in August 1966, just a week before announcing they would never tour again.

Four major railroads served Seattle at the time—Great Northern, Northern Pacific, Union Pacific, and Milwaukee—as well as a host of smaller lines and by-then fallen flags. They had yards in Tacoma, Auburn, Renton, Argo, Fisherman's Terminal (Interbay, now called Balmer Yard), Everett, and over the mountains, the brand new hump yard at Pasco—wonderful, smelly places to walk (carefully, lest an injury alert the yard crews to our presence) and breathe and sigh a sad goodbye to a changing era. I'd discovered I wanted to be a writer … and this was history in the making.

During bouts of unemployment, I took stock and looked back—and realized how much I've grown since dad wrote his inscription. I see what he meant, that life is full of things to know and learn and do—and love. At long last, I understand the inscription. It means having the confidence to try new things and experiment with life. It means not being afraid to step outside my comfort zone—after all, the comfort zone always expands to where I've grown. Dad knew, and I've learned, that you never die of fright.

Several years ago, we visited Silverwood Resort with the kids. They wanted to ride the roller coaster. Knowing I was afraid of heights and drops, they piled camera bags, sweatshirts, purses, and other things on me. I got the biggest thrill of the day, though, watching their stunned faces when I got into the car with them. And … the ride wasn't so bad, after all. More recently, we all enjoyed the coasters together at Magic Mountain, Disneyland/California Adventure, and Universal Studios. It's gotten so I don't even flinch.

During the time when I accidentally graduated with a B.A., I found my interests forcibly broaden again and again. I discovered that all my English lit, political science, music theory and music history, American and British history, and a host of other dabblings had been lumped together. Not only did I have more than enough credits to graduate a quarter early, I had somehow scrapped together a complete second major—60 credits they called history. My declared major (45 credits) was journalism/communications—but even that wasn't broad enough to contain me.

Since then, I've been a political and courthouse reporter, news bureau chief, entertainment editor, movie and concert critic, wire service writer, print publication designer, production manager, seminar leader, trainer, help file and interface developer, public relations guy, website developer and manager, "traffic" analyst and search engine placement expert, and technical projects manager. All required that I quickly learn new trades and tricks—and I've discovered a lot more that I enjoy. Some have become new passions.

Everyone, including me, thought I was crazy when I went back to school in 2002 at the University of Phoenix. It was a tough couple years, working full time while attending ground and online classes, but I graduated in June 2004 with a Master of Arts in organizational management and a cumulative grad school G.P.A. of 3.929.

I might still reserve judgment on whether I try skydiving. But I don't hold myself back, nor will I be held back, about anything else. My interests have broadened.