The Lesson from Ogden High

My grandfather went to Ogden High.

I almost went to Ogden High (though, I also almost went to a lot of other high schools, too).

What does that have to do with anything? Let me give you a scenario.

A customer comes to me and says he wants to split his bill in two, but just with a calculator, they don't need two separate pieces of paper. They both have cash, they just want to know what half of their bill is.

I look at it and tell them how much they'll each pay, with a remainder of one penny, so maybe they should thumb wrestle to find out who pays that last penny.

The man looks at me strange and says "You Ogden High kids. Good with the math and jokes."

So I'm thinking back to my knowledge about the school. What I remember has nothing to do with this mathematical/humor fame. While I'm reflecting, I say, "I almost went to Ogden High, but I didn't," just to let him know the truth.

He replies, "Almost, huh? So you're not a freshman anymore. You must be a Sophomore. No more people teasing you anymore, right?"

"No, actually I graduated," I say with a smile on my face. I am trying to stand up taller so that I don't look like such a child, but then I realize that by trying to appear taller, I might be appearing proud that I graduated. I am, but I don't want to come off as prideful.

"Really?" He really is shocked--I know because his face looked it. "Where did you graduate from?"

"Utah State," I answer. Then his wife and his buddy look at me, also a little taken off-guard.

"Wow! Utah State, huh?" I nod, but he doesn't seem to believe me. "What did you graduate in?" he asks, as if looking for proof.

"English, with an emphasis on professional and technical Writing and a minor in marketing," I reply. And then I had to leave because I had to seat a couple. As I smiled and sat them at their table, I couldn't help but think that maybe I should've stayed with Engineering, or Science, or applied for Law School as so many of my English program teachers advised me to do. Evidently, law schools love people from my program. If I had done something else, maybe I'd not worry about paying bills so much as I do right now. Maybe I wouldn't be looking for signs that Utah's economy is picking up enough that companies can afford to hire writers again.

But then I go home to write in my journal. Then I read. Then I write the stories that swirl in my head. A friend asks me to edit a paper. My computer dies and I realize how much information I lost on there, precious information that takes hours to pound out, information that gives me carpal tunnel creating it...

And I realize that I wouldn't want to do anything else other than write. I love to organize sentences, technical or creative. If my life wasn't about words, about organization, about perfecting, about imagining, then it wouldn't be the life I love and look forward to.

I might not have a writing job that pays right now, but I am a writer in my heart, and I will wait for the day when someone is willing to pay me to do what they don't to do, because they'll pay me with more than money, they'll pay me with the opportunity to create more words in more places than I would be able to on my own.

So thank you, man-customer who came in and thought I was young enough to be in high school. Thanks for renewing my passion for writing. And thanks for thinking I'm young, because it reminded me that I am young, and I have time to wait for those writing jobs, and eventually, I'll be able to teach everything I've learned to my students and my children, should I have any.

I guess that's something from Ogden High, even though I never went there. And if I learned something from that school, a place I've never been, I wonder what else I'm going to learn. So life, what's next?