Adversity breeds success

There is no education like adversity.

-- Benjamin Disraeli

A reader of one of my earlier posts commented not on the pithy story of my entering the world of high finance, but rather that it was nice that I had succeeded even though I messed up my college education.

Well, yes, I messed up my early college education. I sometimes wish that that had been my sole misstep in life, but in reality, each mess up led inexorably to my current, comfortable life here in the bosom of Wall St.

You see, each failure, each setback; put me on a path to success!

My life was pretty charmed in high school (well, not in the romance department, but I was pretty nerdy, so that was only to be expected). I was the class brain. Life was easy. I was sure to succeed. I had my life plan in hands.

Well, through a combination of emotional immaturity, poor planning, a reluctance to ask for help, and way too many hands of bridge at the Student Union; I found myself first on academic probation, and then thrown out of school.

A good plan would have been to drop back to community college for a year and try again.

I didn't make a good plan.

I joined the US Air Force!

The recruiter was only too happy to have me. I went to basic training in San Antonio and then Tech School in Mississippi. My orders came in. I was going back home to California! Perfect! I would be five hours drive from home (close, but not too close), close to some reasonable re-entry schools (Sacramento State, UC Davis), and ready to get my life on track.

But that didn't last.

At the last minute, I was swapped to Omaha, Nebraska. Then swapped again from a big fancy unit to a weird satellite operations group. Damn!

OK, I soldier on (or airman on in my case I guess). I drop back into college. I'm still not really into it and just scrape by for a while. One of the sergeants, Robert, tells me to stop being such a f*** up. Eventually, I take it to heart and get my act together (even though, at one point, I was working 22 hour days going to school and working full time).

At first, my plan is to stay in the Air Force and become an officer. Then my brain re-engages and I figure it's a better idea to be a military contractor. Then my sainted mother convinces me to go to grad school instead.

Well, that, at first, didn't go well. I had rocking GRE scores (done after one of those 22 hour days in lieu of sleep!), but my GPA was shit from a regional school with a non-traditional degree (I have a Bachelor of General Studies!). Well, I persevered and didn't take no for an answer (well, my Mom told me not to take no for an answer... Thanks Mom!). I went down to one of the schools, dropped in on the Computer Science department chair, and begged and pleaded my way into a masters program.

Well, grad school just rocks! I'm having fun, killing it in my classes (well, except for the Aero Engineering class that I got a mercy C in). On a whim, I apply to UC Davis and its satellite campus at Livermore Labs. Yeah! Back on track.

OK, fresh Ph.D. in hand, I scrape out a job at the Lab in the recession of '92. A couple great years doing some cool parallel language work. Write some papers, create some tools, all good.

Then the funding is pulled. I end up taking a leave of absence supported by a tiny grant that somehow survived the purge. I end up splitting my time between that work and a small start up ISP. Through a fortuitous chance, one of my grad school friends also gets me a part-time job back at the lab (nuclear weapons design! Woo!) that keeps me going. Money is tight. The startup is making some progress.

Then my partners get into unrelated legal trouble and skip town.

And steal my $17,000 computer.

Shit!

So, back full time at the Lab, I lick my wounds and throw myself back into the work. I climb right back to the top of the heap. I'm a powerful group leader in a powerful group. I'm the protege of the Division Leader who then gets promoted to the very top computer science job at the Lab.

I tell my parents that I'm so happy to be in a stable, wonderful job that I can milk all the way to retirement. My Great Depression Era Mom says, "Grizzled, never count on anything to be unchanging."

Well, Mom was right. Like a Joss Whedon story, when things are going well, that's the time for a plot twist.

My patron gets deposed in a massive coup. Really! it was done in the dead of night. I walked in to a new world order one Wednesday morning. Years of work and positioning flushed down the toilet.

I quit my now gutted leadership post. I looked around and found a job through another friend at the Lab and transfered. My ranking plummeted from the very top of the organization to a middling 40th percentile rank. I was burned. I would never see a raise again.

I get to work again. I find a cool research project to explore multi-million core processing techniques. The research lead is awesomely talented. The project looks feasible. I sign on!

Then, the funding gets cut in half, but the workload isn't. What looked like a cool project is now doomed. Doomed, but destined to be declared a success. The dreaded zombie project.

I'm not sure what to do. I'm thinking about moving to one of the really secret parts of the Lab (yes, more secret than the nuke work), but there really isn't anyplace to go.

Then, like a light from the sky, I get a call from a headhunter looking for people, "Just Like Me!" On a whim, I answer and get whisked away to work for my favorite eccentric billionaire in New York.

Again, life is great! The work is cool. My friends are weird and interesting and insanely skilled. I literally have a corner office overlooking Times Square. I have an offer for a part-time professorship at Columbia's APAM. Easy Street!

Right before vacation, my manager pulls me into the office and asks about the Columbia offer. I say "yes." Before I can tell him that it's a one night a week gig at 7:30pm, he says "You need to tell me that you're not going to take it or you won't like what I say next."

Well, your Grizzled Guru knows a threat when he sees one.

In a strange cosmic coincidence, this was the very day that I had my "what the hell, I'll try anything once" interview with the Big Bank described in my rocket science story. And I was going on a three week vacation. And I was pissed (though I didn't let it show during my talk with my manager).

Note to managers. Never piss off an employee you want to retain before he goes on a three week vacation. I had time to stew, polish, and distill my anger. So I took the big bank job and quit (and got a sweet 40% raise and a full first year bonus after two months of work!).

OK, now I'm making the big Wall St bucks at a big Wall St bank. We steal (I mean, hire away) a new MD from another big Wall St bank. He comes in with his tech team and shakes up everything. Most of the guys are interesting, but one guy is just a prick. He rubs everyone the wrong way. But he is wildly talented, so he always gets his way. Suck city.

So, I start interviewing around just to test the waters. I'd been courted by a Chicago Prop shop for a few years, so I finally give in and go for an interview. I get an offer. Not a super offer, but a good bump. The caveat is that I need to move to Chicago in two years.

I cleaned out my desk. The only thing on it is the FedEx envelope with my offer acceptance letter sitting in it Then I go to my MD and quit.

Or rather I try to quit.

He talks me into a 24 hour pause while he scrambles to keep me. I agree (stupid... never do this!).

OK, a new Easy Street awaits.

Or not.

In those 24 hours my world implodes. My son drops out of college. My daughter's teachers call about an immediate problem at school that can't wait.

Shit!

I decide to take my MD's counter and stay (Nooooo!).

A week later, an old friend from the eccentric billionaire's job calls up to chat. His firm is opening a NY office, am I interested? My emotions are still too raw, so I put him off for a couple months and then interview and land my current awesome job.

Then I have to go to my MD and quit (again!).

No garden leave for me... I work my 60 days. I work hard. I start and finish a project that would nominally take 6 months in 2. I could have been a prick and refused, but I felt I owed him at least that (and besides, Wall St is too small to burn bridges and napalm them and nuke them too).

So, for me at least. Each failure, each setback led me (by the nose at times) to the next step in my career.

My original master plan was terrible, in retrospect. If I had stayed in engineering school, I would have graduated right into the mid-eighties collapse of aerospace. If I stayed in the Air Force, I would have been caught in a force reduction and tossed out around 1990. I escaped a huge layoff at Livermore Labs (my friends asked how I knew it was coming, I responded "how could you not!"). The eccentric billionaire's company is still going, but is is not the fun place it once was. My old big bank has its share of troubles that continue to this day.

The universe sends signals sometimes. Failure is a way to break the inexorable inertia that keeps us bound to dead-end jobs. Listen to your mentors. Call in favors from colleagues, but most of all...

Listen to the Universe my friends! (and your Mom)

Persist and persevere, and you will find most things that are attainable, possible.

-- Lord Chesterfield