Welcome to my autobiography!
Glad you are here.
In my last post I told you about my wife’s amazing feat of work during a 4 month period during the summer of 2013.
Note – All of the posts in this blogged autobiography are in order. The first few posts try to paint a picture of a crummy childhood. These last few posts highlight my life after I turned 60 years of age.
You will notice the posts from number 130 and higher, jump around. This is for no particular reason except that life isn’t always linear. Stuff just happens.
Plenty of drug addicts kick their habit. A few of them, like my son, first get so low they try to do something dramatic to end their hopelessness.
In Stevie’s case, he was addicted to pain meds from the age of about 9 to age 22. What happened after age 22, in my opinion, became a remarkable transformation.
In post #125 I shared with you how I came to respect Stevie.
Stevie had been a pretty scrawny kid. Chronic pancreatitis had ravaged his slender body. And he will himself tell you he will never play in the NFL – it just doesn’t happen for 99% of the population that is “normal” in physical stature. But during the summer of 2013 Stevie transformed his body in a way even a father didn’t think was very likely.
Here is how it happened.
Stevie hit the gym – in a big way. In the same way I had become a gym rat in 1977 (fitness trainer and yoga instructor), Stevie worked out at CrossFit day and night until I no longer recognized his skinny butt. I’m talkin’ chiseled.
Stevie also hit the books at his junior college, won a math scholarship and was accepted to The University of Colorado at Boulder’s Electrical Engineering program.
“You see Dad, it’s pretty cool when these equations work out the way they’re supposed to,” Stevie told me, just yesterday, while we were watching the 49ers get clobbered by the Carolina Panthers.
“What do you mean, son?” I asked, as I glanced at the title text he was referring to. “Linear Circuits”, was the title.
“What I mean is,” Stevie answered, showing me his equations and hand scratched drawing of an amplifier circuit, as he explained, “I’ve proven here the voltage is not dependent on the load.”
“Whatever,” I said, not totally understanding what he was trying to tell me.
In only three months of coursework in the electrical engineering program at the university, Stevie has met and surpassed the knowledge I had gained in 25 years designing integrated circuits (semiconductor chips).
My son was imbued with something I could never grasp; an innate ability to derive mathematical equations, quite effortlessly.
Stevie’s transformation from a chronically ill, drug dependent, lying punk to something quite different was off to a good start.