Another birthday
I noticed in the news today that John Travolta turned 52. It seems like he's been around forever beginning with the TV series Welcome Back, Cotter and going on to star in countless films. It made me do a little reflecting on my own life.
I will be 51 in a few days, and I ask myself, am I really this old? It seems like I have only accomplished a fraction of what I should have by this age. Have I let life pass me by? It seems like I had quite a rich life up to the age of 20 or so, but since then, some three decades, I don't really have much to say for myself. Of course, there are extenuating circumstances.
I was caught in a rut of sorts up until the age of 30, and then just when things started to click for me I was an accident and became permanently paralyzed. And not just from the waist down, it was the whole enchilada: quadriplegia. Talk about ruts! It definitely put a damper on my social life, not that I had much of the social life before that. I had been pretty much of a hermit. Besides work, I spent most of my time at home reading books and sleeping.
I worked for my father who ran a photography company. We shot pictures of school groups with the US Capitol in the background and sold copies to the students as souvenirs. It was a lucrative business, but it was a grind with the capital G. I ran the office and the photo lab, and when we were busy it was a literal sweatshop.
Most of the school groups come to Washington during the spring and from March to June we had our hands full. My father and brother worked up at the Grant Memorial where the pictures were shot, and one of our selling points was to deliver the finished photos to the group before they left town. On a busy day, they would shoot 20 or more school groups that ranged anywhere from 30 to 600 kids each (though the average groups were 50 to 100. That left me and a few others with the arduous task of developing the film and making the finished photographs. Many days we had to make over 1000 prints. Adding insult to injury, after the day was finished the night was spent delivering the packaged photographs to the various groups at their hotels. This task split up between my dad, my brother and myself. I handled the spots in Arlington, which included Crystal city, down I-395 and down Route 50. 60 hour weeks were not uncommon. Needless to say, when we were busy I had little time to do anything but work.
I began working for my dad full-time when I was 19 (as vice president of the company, no less). At the age of 18, I had dropped out of high school in my senior year. I was dreadfully behind in my studies from skipping class--I liked to party a lot--and since only needed three more credits to graduate, I figured I could get them in adult education and receive a GED. My parents and my teachers tried to talk me out of it, but I had made up my mind. Having done that, my father promptly put me to work that spring as a courier for the company. The following fall I got my three credits, and someone liked me for instead of a GED I received a full-fledged diploma from Washington and Lee high school (alma mater of Warren Beatty and Shirley McLean).
I will be 51 in a few days, and I ask myself, am I really this old? It seems like I have only accomplished a fraction of what I should have by this age. Have I let life pass me by? It seems like I had quite a rich life up to the age of 20 or so, but since then, some three decades, I don't really have much to say for myself. Of course, there are extenuating circumstances.
I was caught in a rut of sorts up until the age of 30, and then just when things started to click for me I was an accident and became permanently paralyzed. And not just from the waist down, it was the whole enchilada: quadriplegia. Talk about ruts! It definitely put a damper on my social life, not that I had much of the social life before that. I had been pretty much of a hermit. Besides work, I spent most of my time at home reading books and sleeping.
I worked for my father who ran a photography company. We shot pictures of school groups with the US Capitol in the background and sold copies to the students as souvenirs. It was a lucrative business, but it was a grind with the capital G. I ran the office and the photo lab, and when we were busy it was a literal sweatshop.
Most of the school groups come to Washington during the spring and from March to June we had our hands full. My father and brother worked up at the Grant Memorial where the pictures were shot, and one of our selling points was to deliver the finished photos to the group before they left town. On a busy day, they would shoot 20 or more school groups that ranged anywhere from 30 to 600 kids each (though the average groups were 50 to 100. That left me and a few others with the arduous task of developing the film and making the finished photographs. Many days we had to make over 1000 prints. Adding insult to injury, after the day was finished the night was spent delivering the packaged photographs to the various groups at their hotels. This task split up between my dad, my brother and myself. I handled the spots in Arlington, which included Crystal city, down I-395 and down Route 50. 60 hour weeks were not uncommon. Needless to say, when we were busy I had little time to do anything but work.
I began working for my dad full-time when I was 19 (as vice president of the company, no less). At the age of 18, I had dropped out of high school in my senior year. I was dreadfully behind in my studies from skipping class--I liked to party a lot--and since only needed three more credits to graduate, I figured I could get them in adult education and receive a GED. My parents and my teachers tried to talk me out of it, but I had made up my mind. Having done that, my father promptly put me to work that spring as a courier for the company. The following fall I got my three credits, and someone liked me for instead of a GED I received a full-fledged diploma from Washington and Lee high school (alma mater of Warren Beatty and Shirley McLean).
posted by John Ivey at 8:09 PM
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