Dear Diary: The Inspiration, & Journey, That Lead Me To Computer Science & A Career in Information Technology [Part-1]

It is April 7, 2022... How far back in time should I rewind to?! The journey started at a very young age... no more than two years old! It was not planned, but it seems that it was "destined," as many people say!

At the beginning...

I've always been a hardware and systems guy... I love figuring-out how things work independently, and how they work together, in order to modify and optimize such setups and arrangements... from using Lego blocks, Tinkertoys , and Play Doh , to the beautiful abominations I created and called robots: ranging from Thunderbird-1 to Capt. Nemo... more to come on those later on!

Electricity and magnetism have always been [invisible] forces that have fascinated me, and I've desired to understand and experiment with... since the first time I placed one of my mom's hair pins in an electrical outlet as a baby (correction, Jul. 1, 2022: when mom read this, she said it was a pair of tweezers)!

The story goes—as she tells it, that our home suddenly became too quiet, and mom knew that I was up to something. Not long after, the power went out, and she ran in panic feeling that I had something to do with it, which, of course, as mothers' instincts are often correct, she found me sitting quietly in a corner of the room staring at a wall, where she smelt something burning, only to find a pair of tweezers plugged into the singed power outlet! To date, I am still most dangerous when I am quiet! ??

Thanks to my parents' encouragement and direction, I've always been good at utilizing creative thinking to express myself and solve most problems, and at using my hands—as gentle as appropriate—to build things that work, with purpose. Think first, act second. I will admit that, at times, I am much better, and more effective, at solving other people's problems than my own! That being said, I recognize that the reason for that—when it happens—is the inherit biased views in which we perceive ourselves from.

Unknowingly, the fuse was lit...

A "geek" was 'created'... or, is it "honed"? Can you give what you don't have?

Background

Thanks to my father, I had a deep appreciation for the language of math, logically observing trends and making relationships—until it became second nature to me, and comprehending causality, among other skills and practical applications of said knowledge. He had academically instilled it in my mind since I was two years old, when by my third year birthday I knew the multiplication tables from 0-12, backwards, forwards, and in random order (he made a "fun" game out of teaching). He taught me how to measure, and what different measurement units were meant to express.

By my fourth year birthday I could do long and short division , and calculate square-roots ! When dad and I embarked on a project to build things, like bookshelves, he would relegate the task of calculating and measuring to me; I knew that he double checked my work, for he's the one who taught me to "measure twice, and cut once."

Among many skills, mother taught me another application of math: music... starting with playing the piano, followed by the Accordion and then the Melodica ; since, I've taught myself the clarinet , guitar, and I'm currently practicing the saxophone and violin. I play music by ear . She also was the one who also taught me how to tell time, and explore my imagination through all forms of art, and connecting that aspect of my humanity with the tangible world. By doing the latter, she bridged what she taught me with that of what my father did.

It is this "fun" homeschooling preparation, at such a young age, that led the private elementary school I attended for my initial years of education, the Atkins School, to propose to my parents that I need to be bumped up in class grades, else I may become very bored in school... I was raised two grades after being evaluated.

I, now, say that the beauty of creating working software is that it takes things to a higher level... it can make the difference between being a corps and a highly functional living being! I qualified this statement by saying "I, now, say" because that is not how I always felt about software programming!

The teen years' adventures (and challenges)...

My IT tech evolution started during my late middle-school days. I was busy running an organization I founded called SPACE-G, short for Solar Powered Aircraft & Electronics Group... a "club," as we called such things then.

My father was working in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia , which is where we (mom and us, the kids) moved to join him. Our home was a two story villa located in the, then, all new neighborhood of the O'leyya , also called the O'leyya District ( ?? ?????? ), off 60th Street ( ???? ???? ), past Panda Supermarket ... at the time, not far from where the [non-existent, per Saudi history curriculum] U.S. Air Force residential compound was... it's amazing what a person can remember at times!

For me, it was one heck of an adventure to move to Arabia, for there was a notable contrast to other places we lived and visited outside of The States, such as those in Europe, North Africa, and then the Levant (Mediterranean cultures), but that is exactly what made it so exciting; on the other hand, my mother was not as appreciative of the ultra-conservative culture there, she, understandably, preferred the relatively liberal lifestyles of the Levantines.

Three of four of my siblings were born overseas; we are five all together, and I'm the oldest (a blessing and a curse... a sentiment that only the eldest in any family can probably appreciate!).

For middle school, and later high school, I was enrolled in an all-boys private school, where, predominantly, children of expats attended, and it is where I later met one of my best friends, Yaseen Hijazi (photo above: high school days, playing basketball at my family's villa). Yaseen's family had later moved to an apartment building in the same neighborhood during our high school years, which was awesome for reasons you will soon find out.

Effective 10th grade, Yaseen and I belonged to an coterie of bona-fide cool geeks whom the professors appreciated for several reasons... the lot of us were accomplished literacy wise and had a thirst to acquire knowledge, and we were athletically active too (even, during high school, on our lunch breaks, we sometimes played a volleyball match against teachers), but we exuded the essence off the classiness we were brought-up with and was expected from us at home, without exception, which is probably what the teachers appreciated the most... manners.

For the record—before I move on, I must point out that our English language professor at the time, Mohamed Haloul, was one of the best players of all whom participated in our volleyball games... during the spring and summer seasons, he often took off his dress shirt before the start of a game, displaying his sun-tanned Asclepius' statue like athletic torso, and joined the teacher's team with demonstrated zeal (I think that he was very proud of his physique, and, truthfully, he had a reason to! He always promoted the adage: "a sound mind is found in a sound body!")... but, man, there was no defense to when he stood net and spiked that ball as he did, for it came down like a bunker-buster at MACH speed ! Unforgettable! Professor Haloul, if you ever read this, I want you to know that we did appreciate you as we would an older brother we love!

It is ironic, but another good player was also an English language professor of ours, Nahel Mashaqi... while, in his fair and blondish features, prof. Mashaqi expressed understated refinement, ranging from the way he dressed to the quiet and clam way he spoke and behaved, what made Prof. Haloul somewhat unique was that he expressed a wonderful sense of humor (as he picked on us)—again, as if he was an older brother of ours, and he actually treated us in that way, including in the way he expressed his zeal for us to succeed at our scholastic endeavors, and life in general.

All of our professors at this school were from Levantine heritage , mostly Palestinian. It is because of these incredible and capable educators that the school's quality of education persistently ranked as the #1 at the level of central region of Arabia , when compared to other educational establishments (private and public schools combined)... perhaps it's arrogant of me, but I'd bet that it was the #1 at the Kingdom's level, too. My education there was, undoubtedly, far superior to what I've known here at home, in Texas.

The other members of our geek squad were: Shareef Haddad (Egyptian, the real health & athletics fanatic of our group, the most demonstrably aggressively competitive scholastically, and he was awesome at reciting poetry), Samer Harfi (Arabian, his mother from the Levant if I recall correctly, was the top of our class who, I think, was destined to be an MD—haven't confirmed yet, and he was the one who introduced me to the band Europe ), and later Nabil Wattar (Lebanese, at ease confidence that showed in his smile, top of the class, generous and classy with a delicate sense of charm that earned him respect and appreciation from anyone he met)... and, finally: I, the relatively shy, but true geeky energy, that connected and bonded all together.

All those mentioned were indispensable when it came to my studies and school work, and collaborating with them played a marked role in my foundational scholastic successes, which continue to pay-off to date... "tell me who your friends are, and I'll tell you who you are."—Arab proverb.

In this piece, you may notice that I'll talk about Yaseen, but not the others as much, because while the others were integral to my life, and they seemed intrigued by my inventions and innovations at automation, my science debates with teachers , and my documented engineering plans and attempts at creating a solar powered aircraft, and followed my lead on these matters with curiosity if not fascination, their hearts were not in it 100%; but, Yaseen's was! He gave it all he could... intellectual, psychological, and material support.

He believed in my 'dream,' and helped at keeping it alive until the last day we saw each other, at 18 years old. Thinking of him, and his dedication reminds me of another friend, and brother, who would show-up later in my life, as I was establishing my first business as a big boy: Sam Abarca; I guess that you can call me "fortunate" for having such high caliber human-beings in my life... I am. In the words of Isaac Newton: "If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants."

Yaseen, Yaseen, Yaseen...

Yaseen was, and I'm sure still is, a wiz at mathematics and physics... if any of us exuded true geekiness in a stereotypical introverted way, it was he... he was quiet, ultra-polite, soft-spoken to a fault, and very notably shy... the rest of us were pretty much an extroverted bunch by comparison! His catch-phrase, in a Syrian dialect, when something didn't go the way he expected—after pausing for a moment, was: "Ish-haada?!" (?? ?????... What is this?!/what just happened?!)... usually followed by us cracking-up laughing because we perceived his body language, and innocent facial expressions, while bewildered, to be amusing!

One day, he invited me to visit his home (post his family moving into the same neighborhood). In his room, on a desk next to his bed, he had a Personal Computer (PC) that was running while connected to a color monitor no less (a novelty them days)... only a couple of weeks old! He was so excited to demonstrate its capabilities and his skill at manipulating it!

It was a MSX . Yaseen was not playing games on it, he was making them! I recall him excitedly showing me the lines after lines of code; to this day, I remember two of the commands he had used in one of the programs he demonstrated: "PEEK" and "POKE" !

The first program he created, a work-in-progress like the rest, was one of racing cars, with all kinds of obstacles and "dangers" that must be avoided; the other was a perfect equivalent to the Pac-Man game ! Both tracked scores and rewarded points and penalties; at the time, he was working on how to make the program save the players' IDs and score records, so not reset after the program was terminated. He had a couple of 5-8cm (~2-3in) thick manuals that he used for studying and referencing the programming language; I recall that one was issued by Microsoft, and the other was labeled Sakhr.

He went-on for over half an hour demonstrating and explaining how the code works... hard as I tried not to, I couldn't stop my eyes from glazing over, and discretely yawning every so often... I was getting bored out of my head! (I laugh aloud right now just thinking of this!)

During this time frame, I was working on creating my second fully functional robot, which was radio remote controlled (the remote-control module was scavenged out of a large remote controlled toy boat I had, which I broke-up for the purpose of that 'procurement'!) The unit was christened Thunderbird-2... it even possessed a cassette deck which I 'procured' for the purpose from a red off-brand Chinese-made Walkman I had!

Where there's smoke, there could be fire ...

Behind my parents back, I had taken [what you can technically call] a "job" at RadioShack . I recall the name of the General Manager who allowed me to 'work' there: Mohammed Cozy, a kind gentleman, probably then in his early thirties, from Pakistani heritage.

One summer day, this well-dressed tall and slender geek—yours truly—walked into the well air-conditioned store, as I often did, and started looking around for the latest electronic components, and to see what else I can buy—off my shopping list—with the school allowance that I used to save in-full for such a purpose.

I think that dear Mohammed had seen the geeky potential in me, as he used to often sell me more products than I could actually afford to pay for... in other words, he used to discount the prices significantly! Yes, I did... I did give him those puppy eyes every so often to convince him to oblige! Bless him, I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me that he was paying for some of those things out of his own pockets to cover the shrinkage !

I had demonstrated to him, on several occasions, after I had told him about the inventions I am working on, that I am skilled at repairing small appliances, TVs, sound systems, and large appliances, and I asked him for the job in return for providing me with some of the electronic components I needed for my 'inventions,' and the use of the diagnostic tools in the repair-shop, and any amount of cash he thinks that I deserved to be paid (I left that up to him, like gratuity)... we cut a deal!

Among the major outcomes of that deal—while it lasted—was that it paid for the second half of the purchase price of my first computer... the last unit he had of the type (probably it was being discontinued), which he had put aside for me, for six months, till I earned the money to pay for it... a Texas Instruments TI-99/4A .

The Tandy TRS-80 Model 4, and the TRS-80 Model 100, which were on display and had always fascinated me—especially the Model 100, were way out of my budget and how much he was willing to discount for me... I did try to negotiate for it, but I was not about to push my luck, for the relationship of trust that I had with him was worth significantly much more!

As time went by, I would end-up having a long and healthy relationship with the Tandy brand... I'd end-up buying my first 'grown-up' PC, the Tandy SL/2 with its snazzy Deskmate Graphical User Interface (GUI) and associated software packages, to be followed shortly by the Tandy 2800HD: my first laptop!

On a parallel note, my first handheld computer was the Panasonic Quasar RL-H1400 HHC, which I had during the time I got my hands on the TI-99/4A, to be followed by the Phillips Nino, and then my Hewlett Packard HP iPAQ H2215, after I started my corporate career, and as I was earning my Computer Science degree. I, now, also own my father's first scientific calculator (Electronic Slide Rule Calculator), the Texas Instruments SR-10 , with case and all, and have also used it!

Did you know that the TRS-80 Model 100 was one of the earliest Notepad computers?

A new home...

The 99/4A found a new home, and was officially mine within a couple of weeks from Yaseen demonstrating his MSX to me. Initially my parents were not aware of my purchase, and there was a reason for that... while father demonstrated his pride and recognition of my technical abilities, and those of being able to correctly diagnose and repair practically any item at home, including on his car, nicknaming me Mr. Fix-It... "come here Mr. Fix-It, see if you can figure this out!"...he still was concerned that my extracurricular activities were taking too much time away from my studies and home-work.

He wanted me to spend my time focused on my school work, and I wanted to spend time building my contraptions... my airplanes, my robots, my automation and miniaturized tech (a story for another day, but for now, just think of Maxwell Smart's, Agent-86, shoe phone (yes, I did bastardize one of my pairs of leather dress-shoes in a partially-successful attempts to make such a device), and my later first scuba-diving computer , the UWATEC Aladin Air X, as two examples!), and so on.

Perhaps his concerns were founded... perhaps he was right; after all, while dad was at work, I often had to 'sneak out' to forage in business dumpsters, among other sites, for all the hardware and electronic components I needed to make my gadgets (including the one near to the Radio Shack)... actually, I became a pro dumpster diver with an keen eye for real value!

It is amazing what you can learn about a business, and people, from their garbage... moreover, beyond electrical wires and cables, which I needed a lot of, for starters, that is where I found the working RL-H1400 HHC and its printer, and a professional PBX headset too!

Well, I quickly hooked-up all the computer hardware, including mating the PC to an antique black & white National brand television set, which I had located, nonfunctional, in our villa's storage room, and repaired it so to use as a PC monitor, and then started reading the computer's manual.

{There is a [now] funny story that goes with my repairing that TV monitor, and it involves my sister messing with things that she should not, and her wanting to watch a soap opera without our parents knowing, and me getting zapped with over 10,000 Volts of electricity from the flyback transformer that's connected to the CRT, then being lifted into the air and thrown-back 15ft (4.5m) onto the floor! ... !}

My software programming journey starts...

'Alright, alright, alright!' After clacking on the keyboard for two seconds, enjoying the feedback, I asked myself, 'isn't this is cool?! Now, what can I do with this device and what can it do for me?' This was not a plug 'n' play machine.

I started studying my first computer programming language: TI Extended BASIC ! Apposite to Yaseen, while my computer was excellent for solving math problems, initially I just could not get myself as excited at sitting there and coding software for hours on end, until I came across the commands: "getKey," "CALL IO," "CALL JOYST," "MOTOR ON" and "MOTOR OFF," etc. ...

... Yes! Yes! Now this made sense to me! Interface this machine with a few components, a couple of 555 IC s, and I can manage and control things! I can marry my PC interest gap with that of automating my robots (vs. walking behind them with a tether and a joystick, or using a manual radio controller).

Yet, again, I found out that there was an Achilles' heel to that idea too: the power cord for the computer... The popular and—more importantly—affordable zinc–carbon batteries neither had the power nor useful lifespan to drive my robot while running the computer for long at all; that forced me to another stage of technical evolution: learning how to build power transformer circuits (DC—DC).

While I succeeded at modifying the unit to run on a 12VDC car battery (vs the AC transformer), due to the weight of the battery, the electric drive motors just could not move the whole robot assembly fast enough where it would have been impressive or useful. Moreover, to say the least, I did smoke a few motors, rheostats (potentiometers), and strip a few [plastic] gearboxes, while testing said unit in the latter configuration, on carpeting (inside the house)!

Still, it was exciting enough to help me become very interested in computer programming. This specific amateur skill later evolved to being used in building programmable controllers for managing appliances (like electric coffee makers and door locks), lights, and alarm systems, detectors (rain detectors to activate or deactivate systems, such as sprinkler systems, windshield wipers on my motorcycle helmet, etc.)... automation... but, firstly, this newly acquired interest opened the door to my ideas of automating controls for the airplane design I was working on... I went back and redesigned a few components and integrated such automation functionality design in them.

SPACE-G, computers & controllers!

For my SPACE-G work, there were several major milestones that were experienced, which are worth sharing:

The first, and, yes, again, without my parents knowledge, and most notable and memorable, is when I walked right into the Riyadh Airbase , after I had gotten the phone number of the Ministry of Defense from the phone operator, and called the Minister of Defense, Prince Sultan bin Abdulaziz Al Saud , to gain his support for my project!

The person I spoke with was very kind and verbally obliging ( ?? ??? ???? ) and encouraging, and advised me that such decisions and provisions will fall to the leaders at the Royal Air Force to help with, and they are whom I will need to speak with. To date, I wonder if I was talking to the Minister himself or not... I think that I was, for I was supposedly transferred to his office extension by the ministry's switchboard operator, since I asked for him by name, and with authority, and, as he took the call, he introduced himself by name, and with same authority!

Empowered with the Minister's directions, well dressed, my U.S. passport in hand for identification, and in the company of one of my goofiest acting friends at the time, from Egyptian heritage, Issam Hijazi (no [direct] relation to Yaseen, who is Syrian), who kindly volunteered to help me, because I needed someone who knew how to navigate the city bus system (which I never used before), so that I can get to the base from home (dad was on a business trip out of town)... I embarked on my new mission to speak to the Air Force!

We were ushered past a wooden security booth, without escort, with me leading with confidence, and Issam quietly following in tow while still expressing concerns—as he did since the first moment I proposed the 'mission,' after I told the guard I'm expected to meet with a General on the base, per instructions of the Ministry of Defense, for a major aerospace project I am designing and which the government will want to sponsor.

Wondering around in the bright sunlight with no one in sight for a while, eventually I intercepted a group of three men, one of whom stopped after realizing that I wanted to speak with them as I raised my arm, and I advised him that I am looking for "the person in charge of the base."

The American airman, who I think was part of an AWACS crew (based on his patch), directed me towards one of the base buildings (administration) and told me to ask there, which I thanked him for. I arrived and found a Saudi soldier coming out of the glass doors, whom I asked of the identity of the person in-charge—after I briefly explained the reason for my presence, as I did at the entrance, to which he asked me to stay by the door, and that he will advise that person of my request to meet him... a Colonel ( ???? )!

After the Colonel greeted me, we shook hands, and I introduced my "assistant," Issam. I explained what I was creating (I had a folder that included all my documents and plans, which I demonstrated), and what I needed of him, including his permission so to be assigned a hangar space where I can build my plane on the premises of the airbase.

While being very attentive to what I was sharing with him, and after I concluded my spiel, he congratulated me on my initiatives, and kindly wished me well, and then pointed in the direction of a certain walled part behind the building we stood in front of, and told me that I can build my plane anywhere behind that wall.

I thanked him, and I asked him if I can quote his permission, which he approved. We shook hands, he went back into his office building, and after we departed his company, excitedly we walked, still unescorted, within the base, to see where that wall leads to, and what was behind it... it was the outer perimeter of the base on one side! (I laugh aloud as I recall this experience and share it with you!) Once it all sunk-in, that plan came to a screeching halt.

That being said, I now imagine the relative innocence of those times compared to today... it was almost like being Opie living in Mayberry (the Andy Griffith Show)! Just wow... I feel sorry for today's generations, and those of the near future, who will never be able to live in an environment of such relative simplicity and trust. Of course, if my parents knew of this adventure of mine, the ending of the experience would have been somewhat less exciting!

OK, to follow, I contacted Lockheed by postal mail—I got an address from one of my father's trade magazines in the polymers industry, specifically, I think that the name in this case was Plastics , but they did not respond to my RFI , nor request for support and funding. I think that the address I used for them was located in Maryland, if I recall correctly.

At the same time, I had contacted a manufacturer of solar panels, which, unfortunately, I forgot the name of, and I contacted Baldor electric motor company. Again, I learned about both entities from my father's engineering reference materials, but, in the case of Baldor, I had also recognized the brand from two of the industrial water-pumps we had at home, where one was used for maintaining the water pressure coming from the city's main (for twelve villas), and to pump water from the backup underground water cistern if there were water service interruptions (remember, this is Saudi Arabia in the 80s!), and the other was below in the underground swimming pool filtration chamber (or the spooky underground cave, as we used to call it)...

... Anywho! The good people at the solar panel manufacturer, and those at Baldor, actually replied to my RFI , after I explained to them what I was attempting to build (an electric propulsion system for an airplane), and they mailed me collections of technical catalogs that contained the detailed specifications of every one of the technologies they built, and also, at my request, included the pricing catalog, too.

Those peeps at Baldor also enclosed a typed and signed personal letter, addressed to me by name, expressing their good luck wishes to me with my project, and provided me with a direct contact to work with! They treated me as a professional, and not a kid or crazy teen geek, which was uplifting, and for that I shall forever say:

What was really surprising is that dad, who picked-up the mail, actually delivered the packages to me, and did not question my intentions, or dispose of the them fearing them to be a distraction from my school work! This was another reason I respected him for, as a kid: while there were times we did not agree on certain things, he seldom ever acted as a dictator... if he had an issue with a matter, he would logically discuss it in order for us to arrive at a proper and logical conclusion that we all can appreciate (even if we—kids—did not prefer it)! [a hint that some parents can benefit from]

They [Baldor] treated me as a professional, and not a kid or crazy teen geek, which was uplifting

I want to circle back to a point, which I want to make sure that is not misunderstood: On a few occasions, I mentioned that my parents were not aware of certain activities I did (I did them behind their backs, as it were), and I want to put things in context for the reader, for you must remember that I am talking about a time in human history when kids spent their time outdoors with neighbors and friends, often till sunset, as long as we had done our homework and home chores—which I was always on top of.

Secondly, I say that may parents were not aware, based on my own beliefs as a child or teen, for fact is that we seldom ever did anything that dad and mom were not fully aware of, and just didn't make a "big deal" about! Fact is that, due to the latter, I always thought that there does not exist an intelligence agent who ever was more intuitively skilled than my father! ??

Inspiration, thy name is Yaseen...

Well, Yaseen was a league ahead of us all when it came to computer programing, and I often used him as a how-to reference, a consultant, on matters of programming and best practices thereof.

He was no longer just programming games, he was programming and completing science homework (math, physics, and chemistry) on the computer. What was most interesting were the programs he ran for solving Calculus problems, and producing the associated graphics during our high school years, and printing the outcomes (before graphics calculators became accessible and relatively affordable)! I did not own a graphics calculator until my second year in college, a Casio FX7000 series , which I bought on sale from the Eckerd Pharmacy in Denton, Texas, off University Drive... it was somewhat of a battery hog (it, solely, used three CR2032 Lithium batteries for a power source), but I love it!

I was a bit envious of his smarts in the arena, for I could graph formulas on my Texas Instruments PC, too, but that was not my real interest, hence I wasn't yet maximizing the use of my computer; that said, I was already up to my neck in my heaven: aviation, automation and miniaturization, and robotics.

His passion only started to permeate my psyche during my last year of high-school and first year in college, when computer programming became a genuine hobby of mine, and it is when I created my first two major programs: the first was a sound generator and speech emulator, which I used to make my robot "talk," and I experimented with to repel insects (using ultrasound frequencies); the other was a "database" program to store, massage, and reproduce select organized mass data via on-screen GUIs, and in print, using GW-BASIC and QuickBASIC . Afterwards, I studied PASCAL and Fortran-77 ... the latter language was still in hot demand in the engineering industry, and part of the engineering curriculum when I started college.

Later, I dove into dabbling with applications of Assembly Language , to manage controllers, too, thanks to Dr. Wayne Zimmerman (Dr. Z), my Computer Science program advisor. The fact that I was able to get my hands on the compilers needed to execute the code for the mentioned languages, for 'free,' played a big role in what languages I studied (outside of school) those days. Later, as with C++ , I could practice at the university's computer lab, and eventually I could afford buying copies of any software I wanted.

The fact that I was able to get my hands on the compilers needed to execute the code for the mentioned languages, for 'free,' played a big role in what languages I studied (outside of school) those days.

Another slight chronological detour, to recognize Dr. Z...

No man or woman make it alone ... I have the need to give credit at this appropriate moment... I'd like to mention that Dr. Z was the one who demonstrated the practical uses of computer science to me... the big picture, and had the gift of empowering students and their ideas. He always placed his money where his mouth is (as the proverb goes)... for example, Dr. Z was the one who supported my proposal to lead a group of my classmates and I, whom had already discussed the idea of competing at the 1999 International Collegiate Programming Contest (sponsored by IBM ); if agreed upon, we would have been the first team ever to represent the university at this coveted event.

We competed, but by the time Dr. Z dealt with the university's red-tape to gain approval for registration, the journey's needs (they were concerned with liability), and some funds, we cut it so close that we drove from North Texas, to Roger State University in Oklahoma (or, Rifle State University, as we jokingly called it), arriving to check into the the hotel the evening before the competition! We were too hyped-up to fall asleep at a decent hour and rest.

Next morning, during the competition, we were exhausted... I think that somewhere out there, there is an aerial photo of the competing groups, where if you look closely, you can locate our team, three gals and a guy (I'm all the way to the right), by looking for a pink bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on top of the left of two of the computer monitors we were facing and working on! Regardless, and while we did not win (we received an "honorable mention" award), without Dr. Zimmerman's involvement, we would not have had a shot at that privilege, and for that—beyond his tutelage—I am indebted to him, as others who touched my life in such ways, forever.

Perhaps I should also mention that a fantastic studying partner, Ms. Stewart, who competed with us, graduated and went on to work as a software engineer for Lockheed Martin Aeronautics , in Fort Worth! I know for a fact that they're lucky to have her as a developer and a leader.

Necessity is the mother of all change and creation

My first passion has always been all facets of aviation and aerospace. At the time, when I started college, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted one of the following:

• To be an Aerospace Engineer (AE) and start my own aircraft company (like Burt Rutan , whom I learned about, when I was in middle school, from an article I read in the Scientific American ; a magazine that used to cost me about $14 every month of my scrounged and saved allowance to purchase),
• To work for an aircraft manufacturer (like Boeing , or Lockheed and their TriStar team—an aircraft I was enamored with, and Airbus which I was mesmerized by their leading advanced technologies), and NASA (need I say more?),
• To work for bosses like my idols: Howard Hughes , and "Kelly" Johnson & Ben Rich at the Skunk Works ),
• To work for a "cool" airline... the day may still come, sooner than later, for this one!

The Bell Helicopter tour...

I've always envisioned that, as an AE, I would be involved with everything that has to do with the creation of an aircraft, from the Alpha to the Omega... like what I was attempting to do with SPACE-G... I was reeducated about this view during a tour of Bell Helicopter , which one of my professors organized... it was quiet, and engineers were working separately, on PCs, in a maze of small cubicles... Hey! Where are the aircraft?! Where is the noise?! Where are the technicians and engineers working together on creating prototypes from large blueprints , components and sheets of metal and polymers?!

Nope... that image in my mind was not the reality... at least, not any more. Being an aviation fanatic like Howard Hughes is not what it is about if you are looking for a "job" with an innovating large company!

I awaited the Q&A session to end before the tour was over, then I approached our host to whom I introduced myself, gave him one of my business cards (my first company, during college, Knight Industries International & Subsidiaries), and then presented him with my latter curiosities, to which he elaborated on the fact that each engineer works on a certain component of the aircraft, which can be as small as a single connector, and only that.

The reason he gave has to do with safeguarding the security and confidentiality of the innovations being developed against competitors and even foreign entities ("guarding against industrial espionage ," a phrase I heard my father use once during a business call; my father was an executive at a global polymers & petrochemicals engineering and manufacturing corporation, and such concerns and risks, at his decision-making level, were not be ignored—now I know).

At the end, I discovered that I was living in a Kombaya , "Peace & Love," idealistic world in my mind, which will be confirmed during another stage of my maturing evolution as a human being! The closest I could get, while being involved at the scale I wanted (while working for someone else), was to study to be an Aircraft Maintenance Technician (AMT), which I confirmed at a later event during a separate tour of the [former] American Airlines maintenance facility at Fort Worth Alliance Airport .

Did you now that Ben Rich was awarded a patent for designing a nichrome heating system which prevented Navy patrol plane crew members' penises from freezing to their urine elimination pipes? Now you do!

New options, to choose from, present themselves...

During my sophomore year studying AE, and as I was visiting with my AE advisor, Dr. Seth, after Spring Break , and as I sat knees bent on the floor near his office chair (his office was spartan, with his singular chair and desk facing a wall, and surrounded with bookshelves and columns of books), and we discussed aviation, electronics, robotics, and related technologies and sciences in general, including that of faster than light travel , he stopped for a moment, and asked me: "I have a question for you... trust me, I relate to your passion for aviation and aerospace, but, career-wise, is your mind set exclusively on aerospace engineering, or would you take advice from an old man, and are willing to consider some other ideas?"

I blushed and replied: 'Dr. Seth, you're a person I respect a lot, and I would certainly take any advice you will share to heart, but why should I change majors?... that is what you're saying, right?'

He turned and looked at his large PC screen, then returned his gaze back to me and said:

"Computers..." then he paused... "computers are the future, they are everything, they'll be automating practically everything... it's the next revolution... data... information... You see, right now we've reached certain limits when it comes to the design of air-frames, power-plants, and so on; but automation and automated control is where it will all be going... optimization! Look at the thousands of layoffs and mergers & acquisitions in Grand Prairie (where a segment of the aerospace industry is centered in North Texas)... people being laid-off in the tens of thousands... this will be going on for at least another ten years. Son, even toilets will be flushing and cleaning themselves with computers soon. There will be a heavy demand for people to design, build, and program all this, including in the aerospace sector. My advice to you, if you choose to be practical, if you want a comfortable and secured future, is to change your major... major in Computer Science or Computer Engineering... you can always return for a Masters in aerospace if you still like."

I looked at him pensively and replied: 'This is fascinating timing, Dr. Seth... during spring-break, I stayed with my youngest uncle, my father's youngest brother, and he had advised me of practically the same thing you did. He had observed some of my computer programming work, and shared the same outlook. I naturally appreciate the intelligence of you both, and both of you can't be wrong on the same point. I will think this over, this week, and make my final decision.'

In summary, while it was not easy, I decided to switch majors! Without doubt, I directly owe both of those people the exciting successes, and the associated adventures, I earned in the IT career I've had, and loved, so far (including during its ups and downs!), but first and foremost, I owe it mostly to Yaseen who introduced me and got me started with, and inspired about, this field!

Not knowing, I was already on my way to my BSc in CSci... my first practical program...

Before I officially joined the Computer Science program in college (CompSci), I used to spend after-class hours at the common dorms computer lab, especially after dinner, where I continued to refine the aforementioned first 'database' program I created, while working on a new idea. The 'new idea' was born late at night, during my second semester at school, working to meet a deadline to turn-in a hefty electrical engineering homework assignment to a smart but very uncompromising, abrasive, and vulgar, professor (I was told that she was a U.S. Navy veteran).

I thought to myself: 'why are teachers assigning us such large volumes of homework at once, which, eventually, they will be cursed to have to study and grade manually?! They must be masochists!' The concept of "Teachers Assistants" (TAs) was not something I knew about yet, which later I became one (unpaid).

Up to college, most exams I ever took were more aligned with the essay format; during college, I was introduced to the machine-readable Scantron s. I always thought that the process of using the paper cards and #2 pencils was novel, but can be totally eliminated via running the whole process of reading and answering the questions directly on a PC.

“I choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it.” ― Bill Gates

At the time, I was just starting to dive into the technical specifics, standards, and protocols of the information technology infrastructure layer called computer networking , and remotely interfacing with Token Rings (Ethernet later on) and computer servers, which initially were DEC s at the university, via using manual or programmed dial-up protocols.

Due to incredible network latency at the time (connecting from my domicile to the university), and the unreliable dial-up connections in the city (Southwestern Bell & GTE duopoly telephony services), the idea did not fully mature until shortly after the telecom world had evolved a little bit, and newer modems were running at the blazing speeds of up to 56K baud at best... operative phrase is: "up to" (yes, I am laughing)!

To test the prototype program, I took the end-of-chapter questions out of one of my biology text books, and started creating a program where a teacher can choose to assign homework questions, or those for a test, out of a "database" of questions. It was not a true database as we use them today, I used the INPUT, READ, DATA, and PRINT [string] statements, among others, and nested loops, to embed and read information and to compare and display the outputs—just as I did with my first ever program, and then students can answer the questions on the computer by choosing the corresponding multiple-choice associated number.

The program graded the answers immediately after completion, and saved the results for the professors' records... it was basically taking Yaseen's high school math homework program concept to the next level, and merging its functionality with that of his games that saved player scores!

While not such a big concern then as it is today, I was still experimenting with solving issues pertaining to the management of secured authentication frameworks that will allow unique identities to log onto the same system and use it (to prevent cheating): assigning and creating unique username and password records to verify against.

At that stage, the working solution at hand was that users had to use the same machine where the program resided, to access and run it; or, for the users to deal with the latency and be able to log onto the same instance residing on a server, remotely, during a prescheduled assigned logon time-frame, but not concurrently in both cases (was not able to handle multiple concurrent users).

One day, a student I casually knew at the time, Skip (I think that his full name is Skip Shockley, if not mistaken), dropped by the computer lab at the dorms, and asked me about what I was working on. As he sat down on a chair next to me, I demonstrated to him what I had created. He expressed his admiration and asked if I knew a Dr. Hamilton. Of course, I did! Dr. Hamilton was one of my Chemistry professors, whom I liked a lot, and we got along well! Skip suggested that I need to take my program and show it to him when I have a chance.

Dr. Hamilton... my promoter... no, my competitor! ...

One evening, I received a call at my dorm room; it was Skip. He asked about what I was doing, and if I was free to meet-up. I told him that I am, and that I was 'just messing around with my program's code.' He replied: "that's what I am calling you about; can you bring your floppy-disks and meet me at Dr. Hamilton's GRB (Graduate Research Building) office?... I told him about what you are working on... he's interested in your work, and I think that you will be interested in seeing some of his work, too." Silently I wondered: 'his work, too? What does Skip mean by that?!'

With all due eagerness, I collected the couple of 5? floppies, the whole of my 3? collection, into my backpack, and placed the long scrolls of dot-matrix printed-out code under my armpit, and took-off expeditiously. I arrived at the office; the overhead florescent lights were turned-off, and there were Skip and the professor staring at the blue lit computer screen with white text, which he was working on.

After exchanging greetings, I did not dare to interrupt the ongoing work with extra talk, and just observed the screen as Dr. Hamilton edited code! He executed the program in the compiler... I think that he was using C , but I am not sure to-date... the program he was editing and testing seemed to be similar to what I was working on! No wonder Skip wanted me to see this. 'What is this?!' I thought to myself... you can say that I was living an "Ish-haada?!" Yaseen moment!

It was obvious that there was a lot of work done there, by Dr. Hamilton. He expressed his interest in my work, and I explained the concept, and demonstrated the code via the printouts I had on me. We ran the code from one of my 3? floppies on his PC, which he admired. Nonetheless, I learned that he already had a contract with one of the major companies that produce educational materials and text books, and that they already had an agreement to buy and license his work... a project he was wrapping-up within weeks!

My feelings were split between being excited for him, yet disappointed in my fortune... very disappointed, and even annoyed; this was not the first time I had worked on an idea that someone else beat me to giving birth to. I was hoping that he still may evangelize my work and skills to his contacts, but, sadly, it didn't seem that the idea was anywhere close to his mind, or intentions.

Have I had invested all that time at creating my prototype all for nil? After I returned to my dorm room, I sat at my desk staring out of the 3rd floor big window in front of me for a spell, then executed my program... I thought to myself that the GUI I designed was much more user friendly than that of Dr. Hamilton's; but, no matter... it was a moot point at this stage... or was it? Rebounding has always been my thing, so, quickly, I thought to myself that 'I can modify my program, and turn it into a mentoring/teaching software (later to be called Computer Based Tutorials/Training—CBTs)! Yes! A great idea!' ... I was told that such a tool is already in use somewhere, too.

Stop, drop and roll... school must come first...

At this stage, I thought that perhaps I can do some research about what is out there first, then create something better (this was not too long ago, yet, still, researching info was not as easy as we may find it today; at best, we had bulletin boards (BBSs) , and then the good ol' reliable university libraries and the aid of the fantastically informed librarians ... founts of information they are!).

As often as is the case, "you want, and I want, and life does what it wants!" ... hence "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade"... lemonade? Damn it!

At this juncture, place and time, the volume of my college education responsibilities started to increase significantly, and my focus changed to maintaining a decent GPA... which meant, spending more time immersed in studying my scholastic curriculum that I will be graded against.

Another incentive to return to focusing on my studies was that the cost of tuition was markedly rising by every semester, too... almost doubling! Till this time in my life, my father was paying for the comprehensive cost of my education (and that of another sibling who was in college too), and I was VERY conscious of that... well, he, too, made it hard for me to forget so! (I laugh again!)... that being said, I remain—more than ever—grateful for his love, desire to see me educated and successful, and having a comfortable and prosperous life... he will always be my hero!

Speaking of heroes, it was during this time that I also concluded building my last operational robot for the decade, a security bot. Though originally named Hero , he was officially christened "Captain Nemo," in honor of Jules Verne , the French novelist.

The robot's face was created from a form of my own (hey! Don't judge me! It is said that "god created us in his image," too!), but the final production of the prosthetic mask, which was made of tinfoil, not aluminum foil, and later remade using fiberglass fabric, ironically, looked more like Mr. Verne than I... hence the inspiration and choice of the final name. ??

Capt. Nemo was also the final product of the implementation of any, and every, circuit I could use out of my copy of the Encyclopedia of Electronic Circuits, by Rudolf Graf... and I had the collection of blown circuit components , and soldering-iron burns, to prove it!

It was only the second full-size organic humanoid-looking unit I created, of seven, resembling an helmetless astronaut donning the PLSS . Capt. Nemo stood at 156cm (~5'11"), whereas all but one of the Thunderbirds were boxy and cylindrical, and, without the antennas, not exceeding 102cm (~3?').

Nemo's lumbering wobbly mobility was still achieved using drive wheels. With the materials I had, I could not build functional 'legs' that did not collapse under the weight of the unit, and its hokey balance management system used mercury switches (an attempt at imitating the works of the human inner ear ) rather than gyros.

Using mercury switches made it a real challenge for me to calibrate the unit for stability in motion, which, again, I was not able to fully optimize with the materials and tools at my disposal, requiring it to be operated on finished surfaces... this design choice was totally driven by "access and cost" challenges, not as a creative attempt at biomimicry of the inner-ear's functionality.

The ranging and obstacle avoidance system was created using ultrasonic and photoelectric sensors, but that system did not work too well either, and produced 'jerky,' and sometimes sudden, responses... hilariously, on one occasion, while testing, tipping-over the unit onto its face, and crushing the nose! I was so tempted to call out "TIMBERS!!" as it fell over!

The experiences building the electronic hardware for my robots over the years, and the necessity to modify or recreate controller circuits every time I found a better way of making something run, helped me appreciate the idea of using programmable components rather than recreating the hardware every time I wanted to add or modify functionality parameters, which was too costly for the wallet of a humble college student with very limited income, and is a bad business practice, too.

The summer wind...

Having had made a decision to finance my own education, apart from utilizing my father's generosity, by getting a job and paying my own way, I took a job as a hotel receptionist; of course, I had to drive to work from campus, for the location was not near the university. I had great success at the job, and the owner-managers were a nice older couple who genuinely took a liking to me, and treated me very well.

NOTE>> Hindsight within a year, I recognized that 'going my own way' was a little bit premature if not stupid, for I still did not understand some of the darker sides of life, and the maliciousness of some human beings (vs. the typical kinder "high class" people I was surrounded by in my personal life)... I will certainly get the chance to understand that!

On the other hand, when I made that decision, dad actually challenged me that I will fail at paying my way through the reminder of my collegiate education, and that I will "come back begging for help" and financial support, which was a strong incentive to not change my mind, and 'to make it.'

By that 1990s summer, I had saved up some funds from earlier working part-time on campus, at the green house (grounds); and after selling my car, a diesel powered 1981 silver Audi 5000S, which I bought out of my own savings, and which I really liked a lot, but being it an import, it came with relatively costly maintenance bills on a student's budget.

Again, my father, in the presence of one of my uncles, had also doubted that I will recoup my monies, because he believed that "no one will ever buy a diesel with a manual shifter in Texas." Statistically, his projections were probably right, but he did not know that I already had a target market in mind (a population of German heritage whom, like myself, appreciated the more refined things in life—quality)!

I sold it within a week from advertising it in the Thrifty Nickle classifieds paper, which cost me $4, using a tactical choice of words... I sold it for $200 more than the price I paid for it when I bought it about a year prior. Now, I had enough cash to purchase a replacement vehicle, and from which I also partially paid the following semester's tuition.

With the help of my best friend and roommate, Carlos Ramos, who was earning his Master's degree in Biology, I bought two used cars: a Chevrolet Cavalier Z-24 and a Chevrolet Camaro Z-28. The second, which I came up-on first, while drivable, was not a road-legal car yet, for it required work on the engine fuel & emissions systems, dashboard wiring, right rear axle replacement, a big dent on one of the front fenders, and serious cleaning of the mold stained upholstery; I just bought it for cheap as a hobby car to work on when I had time (mostly a guy thing)... it was a white 3rd-Gen 1982 model , with gold skirts and black air-scoops on the fiberglass hood, severely molded beige cloth upholstery—due to being exposed to the rain, powered by a LG4 V8, 305, Rochester Quadrajet 4bbl carburetor fueled, totally out-of-tune engine under the hood, mated to a 3-speed automatic 200C-Turbo Hydramatic trainy... Yeah... I remember all that, and more!

The first vehicle mentioned, and second to be purchased, was to be my driving car... a 1988, 2dr, white Chevrolet Z24 sport coupe (vs. the hatchback option), with red pin stripes, a silver skirt and a custom black simulated-leather top, powered by a 2.8L MPFI V6 mated to a 5-speed manual transmission, equipped with a futuristic digital dashboard (Knight Rider KITT style, which is one of the malfunctioning components that I had to repair) and navy blue cloth upholstery.

Mechanically, it was perfectly sound, with low millage; buth the interior needed some work, and the dashboard's electronics and outside trim needed parts to be replaced or repaired. I bought it for an excellent price (no one wanted to mess with electrics and computer problems), and I put my time and blood in to rebuilding and modifying it to mint condition... it took me less than a week! It was a pleasure to drive, and it became my pride and joy (a demonstration of my electro-mechanical and visual arts skills)!

For a year I drove it with extreme delight, and expressing all due quiet male pride and ego when I had company, without an incident. I pampered it... it was "my baby!" Luck has it, as Murphy has been a regular resident in my life, during the first spring break of the following year, a university Facilities Department utility van drove right into "my baby" and wrecked it... the vehicle was totaled.

How did I know who wrecked it? I was sitting inside it, at the dorms parking lot, waiting in plain sight to turn into a parking spot, when the distracted driver of the van (reaching for something on the floor of his vehicle) T-boned the passenger's side, and turned the Z24 into a croissant.

It all happened in what seemed to be slow motion to my perception at the moment, with nothing that I was able do to save it except shout "hey!" as I floored the accelerator after shifting the transmission into 1st gear from neutral... there was a momentary forward thrust, and then an immediate deafening "CRUNCH!" followed by a shower of tempered-glass volume flying into my face, as I was facing the passenger side at the moment of impact. The killer was that, of course, the van was barely damaged in contrast to my vehicle.

The time I spent on rebuilding this car, and studying its electrical circuitry from the automotive service manual, will come to pay-off soon after.

Cars were becoming 'computers on wheels,' and I was becoming very experienced at understanding and working with such automation. It is to be noted that this was my first interaction with MPFI electronic fuel injection systems , too, and was the first time I bought the [GM] shop repair manual, which had cost me then $60 (now, $132); my very first car, a 1984 Ford Mustang LX used TBI: Throttle-body Injection on its 3.8L V6... a hybrid carburetor and fuel injection system.

By this stage of life experiences, interacting with computer technologies outside of the academic world, I now clearly realized the vision that Dr. Seth had shared with me during that memorable day at his office; my interest in the relationship between computer hardware and software programming increased exponentially... I also went back in time to reminisce about those teen years creating automation, and the time that I spent learning from Yaseen about the advantages of utilizing software programming.

Metamorphoses...

Well, without reliable transportation, and the ability to arrive at work on time, due to my reliance on my roommate to drive me there, I had to quit my job at the hotel—even when the owners/GMs expressed their regret and tried to find a way to work it out to no avail.

That situation placed me in a terrifying financial predicament (how am I going to "live"?!) While I did pursue a legal case to address the wreck and the associated financial losses, it would take about two years before the case was settled for less than a couple of grand. My experience with this case supported a fatalistic view I've often heard before, even in films on TV: "the law favors the wealthy, and justice for the poor is left to god!"... I lost count of the number of attorneys whom I contacted to represent my case, and told me: "honestly, there is not enough money in this case for us; I suggest that you call the bar association and see if you can get more help. Good luck." I started becoming more conscious of aspects of the darker side of humanity that I had experienced, which I discussed some of in my article "Contracts: Don't Repeat My Mistakes ."

How will I pay for my tuition and housing?! Campus jobs that did not require commuting were not an option, because there was a long waiting list for those, and there were prerequisites that I no longer qualified for.

Going back and asking for my father's backing was not an option at all! That was tantamount to admitting defeat, which he was actually counting on in some ways... not because he was cruel and wanted me to fail, but because he wanted to demonstrate that life is not as easy as it may have seemed to me through the biased lens of my truly privileged and comfortable upbringing, and to demonstrate the value of what he has invested in us. All that being true, I still think, to date, that there was an element of where he wanted me to "need him"... "attachment"... for him to feel "useful" as a loving parent, which—at the time—he probably perceived that I deprived him of by choosing this path. At the end, we were both educated and we both grew emotionally, and closer to each-other... I also EARNED his respect (he already had earned mine).

I took a drastic step, without sharing it with any family members or even close friends of the time: I had no choice but take a hiatus from school! I figured that if my father was able to pay for his way through college, I could too [I did not factor-in that we each live(d) in different socioeconomic and cultural times!... he could work during the summer break, on a farm in Hill Country, Texas , baling hay (as he did on an occasion), and save-up for the expenses of a whole year of school, and have spending money to boot! I discovered that was not going to be a choice for me and my generation!].

Still, I needed a job. Walking around town visiting grocery stores, ice cream parlors, pizza joints, libraries, restaurants, etc., I looked for jobs, to no avail. The city is a college town, which means that business is dead outside of the scholastic semesters... hope was on the horizon, for the summer was almost over... but, what can I do till then?!

An omen to what may come?...

Since I had studied enough courses in human physiology and biology towards pre-med (a story for another day), I thought to myself, why do I not see if I can find an opportunity where I can serve in the medical field... I did! I was looking at the job board at the student center, and I found a post for a Nurses' Aid position that was open... the ad requested that the "qualified" and interested person is to call a Mrs. Florence Harder, RN (Flo) for further details!

I did! Mrs. Harder had a notable Texan twang to her accent, but she seemed to be a very warm human being! We talked for a spell, and then she asked me to meet with her for an in-person interview at the medical facility. I obliged.

Flo was the kind of person that you would love to love! She was a Registered Nurse (RN), and she was the Sr. to the staff. The assignment at hand was to attend to a disabled patient... fully paralyzed; I would be hired and paid directly by the patient's family, but via Flo. The shift would be the evening shift ("graveyard shift"). I love working at hospitals and helping people, so this opportunity was right in my realm of one of my passions—the medical field! I accepted the role, and I was hired on the spot!

The question was: How would I get to work? Well, I decided to jury-rig the Z-28 to make it as operational as possible, and take the calculated risk and drive it... I did so for a year: from the university to the long-term care medical facility and back to the university.

I had a glorious year there, with a very nice team of professionals, until my patent died from complications of old age and his compounded medical conditions... he died the morning of my birthday... the night before, I and a colleague, Kurt, a student at University of North Texas, had done a skit for the patent, where we, well, basically acted silly! We did a comedy skit to make him laugh, as Kurt played his guitar!

Time came when we had to end the show and tuck-in our fragile patient for the night. Kurt returned to the "living room" while I stayed in with the patient to make sure that he was centered in the bed and to activate some of the support technology used to keep him comfortable (he was totally paralyzed). I held his hand and as I was about to kiss his forehead and wish him a good night, as I did every night, he gripped my hand hard... harder than he ever did before.. and then smiled at me.

He did not let go of my hand, and indicated with his eyes that he wanted me to stay at his side. I informed Kurt that I'm going to stay at the patents side for a while, which Kurt was fine with since now he could watch his favorite TV shows rather than my sci-fi episodes!

Reaching behind me I grabbed a chair, and I sat facing the bed's side, while he did not let go of my hand. I stayed by him, till he got up in the morning, fully of energy (as could be demonstrated from a person in his condition), and with a smile on his face as he saw me at his side! Shortly after, Kurt came in and starting making jokes as he often did, only to be followed by Flo and the morning crew! After updating Flo on all necessary details, charts, etc., she asked me to go and get some rest, and shared her gratitude and her looking forward to seeing me in the evening.

With the typical fast pace, and bounce in my step, I carried my backpack that contained my books and Tandy laptop, and headed to my Z-28; I started the engine, which immediately roared and then idled with that famous muscle car exhaust rumble. The air was cool and fresh, and sun had just started to rise above the horizon... all felt so, truly, perfect... until...

... As I left the facility's parking lot, heading east prior to making a U-turn to head back to the university campus, I received a call from Flo on my mobile phone; she advised me that there was no need for me to return to work in the evening. Shocked, and thinking that I may have done something wrong, I inquired about the reason, to which she replied back "Martin gave you his life..." to which I replied to with astonishment 'what do you mean?! He was perfect when I left!' and she acknowledged: "Martin passed away shortly after you left; I'm so sorry Raéd, I know that you got close, and I have no doubt that it was because of you that he passed-on while being at peace. We will talk more tonight, OK?" I answered with an affirmative.

Gosh, this was one of those very tough moments in my life, and I dare to say the first time I had to confront the idea of death. I started sobbing uncontrollably, so much so I was not able to clearly see the traffic front of me, especially with the sunlight shining at eye level. I decided that I dare not return to campus in such a state, moreover, the airport, where I used to fly from was relatively near, so, I decided to continue in that direction.

I arrived at the airport, and parked next to the plane that I started training on, which belonged to one of my best friends, and his father, and perpendicular to the runway facing the rising sun. I got out of the car and laid on top of the long hood and viewed at the sun as it rose through the tears, and as I contemplated the meaning of all this... life.

The sadness was not about "death," for I have certain views about that transition that allow me to accept it with grace, but this issue was driven by selfishness... the passing of "my patient"... entrusted to "my care"... one moment he is here and full of life, smiling and getting ready for breakfast, and the next: gone.

It was the first time that I felt an utter total loss of control of "my environment"... there was nothing at all that I knew, or that I could do, to change that state and bring him back. I also consciously recognized the singular direction of time travel (which later translated to my life objective of focusing on "the now and future" as often as possible).

Later, when I returned to the university, and as I was taking a long hot shower at the gym, the realities of the materialistic world donned on me! I didn't just 'lose' a human patient whom I became emotionally close to over a year, I also lost my job!

Knees bent, I sat on the floor of the shower as the water poured on my face for what seemed to be five minutes, feeling only total dullness... a lead heavy chest... then I started to laugh aloud my voice echoed through the showers chamber... I was the only one there—not that I cared at all.

Running an inventory of my resources, in my head, I recognized that I will be alright for a while, but not too long. Also, I recognized that my car was still not legally registered (had not passed the environmental tests), which was not so bad—risk wise—driving the short distance, in the evening, between the campus and the hospital, but now, it may become problematic!

Deciding to tackle one problem at a time, I emerged from the shower stall hyper focused and ready to take on what I must by the horns! As I slid the shower curtain aside, somehow, it moved my unzipped backpack that was placed on a bench enclosed in the shower space, which fell, and the corner of my laptop cracked open, rendering it—to my horror—nonfunctional!

Not knowing how I should react to this situation, for my emotions were already fully saturated, I stared at the broken laptop for a few seconds, shoved it back into the backpack, wrapped the bath-towel around my waist, and walked to the lavatories.

I stood in front of the mirror and I stared hard, and with intent, at my face while wetting it again with some warm water; I dispensed a volume of Gillette shaving-gel in my right hand, and commenced to shave using deliberate strokes of my Gillette Sensor razor, while grinning with moxie!

Observing that latter physical state, I was very conscious of having transitioned to a very defiant frame of mind—time to apply the war paint, and I think that it was then that I decided: 'F*ck it all! Hit the damn reboot button ! LET'S GO!'

How low can it go?!

As drove from campus, heading towards the mall to see if I can find some job there, I came across a nice man I knew, Massey, who owned a used car dealership and repairs garage; he recognized my car, and waved at me with exuberance, so, I decided to pull over to greet him and chat for a spell... I guess that I needed the human companionship... the momentary distraction.

As we discussed things, and he asked me about my work at the hospital, I eventually told him about what happened with my patient. Massey and his family also owned some cattle on a ranch in the countryside, 20-minutes outside of the city, which he needed someone to tend to. I advised him that I am interested, but I explained how I had lost my Z-24, and all that the experience entailed; he told me that we can work that out.

He and his wife, Dorris, a wonderful human-being, who was actually an alumna of my university, and even taught there for a while back in the day (before my time), lived on the property, and they had a room that I can stay at, for free! I came to find out that the room was actually a well-constructed large tree house, about 6m (~20ft) from the ground, with a twin bed, desk, and a proper electrical ceiling lamp! It was spartan but awesome!

The agreement was that, as a 'cowboy,' I will tend to the cattle, starting before sunrise (bottle feeding the calf's), and doing farm chores; afterwards, we can commute together to his other business, the car dealership where I can help out (they also owned a jewelry store, which I tended at times, too).

In the evening, I needed to return to the ranch, driving the tow truck , or one of the for-sale cars in the lot, to round-up the cattle that I've let out to graze in the morning, chase those that may have broken through the fences to bring them back, secure the property, and then return to the garage and stay till closing... Soon will come the time for applying... harvesting the value of... what I learned during the time I spent working on, and maintaining, the electronics of the good ol' Z24!

For over a year, I worked as a cowboy, and very much enjoyed that lifestyle in general; but while I better tolerated the sizzling Texas summer heat, I really did not enjoy waking up before the sun rose during the freezing winter to tend to the animals! Once I was up and about, it was glorious, but those first minutes getting out of the warm bed were torturous for a semi-pampered boy like I was, for the room was not heated!

Actually, there were a few of those freezing nights where, aside of the two blankets and double long johns I wore under my cloths, I also slept with my ski-jacket and motorcycle helmet on to stay warm! Oh! I didn't mention that to take care of a call-of-nature at night, I had to use an unlit outhouse that was built under the tree... hell-no! I was not about to use it!

During this time, I developed a more serious appreciation for proper plumbing and clean toilet fixtures... the things we take for granted at times!

For shit's sake, this would have been a perfect time in my life where one of those computer-run self-cleaning toilets, which Dr. Seth foretold of, would have materialized! ... I would actually use them, later in time, in Paris (France, not Texas ... yep, we've got one, too).

Automation, computers, & electronics applications in automobiles...

About six months had passed after I was hired as a "cowboy." During my days at the dealership and its garage, I took calls, aiding with repairs, picking-up parts, and joining Massey on trips to the salvage yards and car auctions, etc.... once, he even had me work on laying an expanse of concrete tarmac (note: working with laying concrete, in the winter, is H-E-double hockey sticks! I hated it!); sometimes he just asked me to join him to chat while he worked, for he expressed that he enjoyed our conversations... we grew to be very close friends, and I still consider him to be so... another one of my brothers.

Curiously, in time, I did observe that when customers arrived with newer vehicles, or imports, that were electronics control laden, or were powered by newer electronic fuel injection systems, the boss shied away from taking the rigs.

He did not favor those designs vs. the still most prevalent old fashioned carbureted models. The desire was not driven by a "fear;" this man was not ignorant, for he had earned a degree in Mechanical Engineering prior to choosing his entrepreneurial career path. He just found that troubleshooting electronic problems was too time consuming, and that the financial ROI just was not worth it based on the typical customer-base that frequented his establishment in the city. Here I found my queue to enter the stage!

I advised him that I am knowledgeable with electronics, computer systems, software programing, electronic fuel injection systems, customizing/optimizing performance car computers, and that I have my own Fluke multimeter and can handle such work for him to add to his bottom-line, and bring in new business... 'the next generation of customers.'

After he provided me the opportunity to demonstrate my skills, and I successfully did, he offered me a sizable commission for every vehicle of the type which I repaired, in addition to the original agreement we had. Being that this was the mid-90s, I knew that there will be plenty of vehicles that require my expertise, which lead me to be very optimistic about increasing my income.

Actually, at this stage, one day I asked him for a day off (which I had not done before—I worked 7-days a week for the first six months or so, but enjoyed it)... I wanted to visit with my girlfriend; we now lived in different cities with an hour drive between us. I had called her at work to say hello and check on her, and we decided to rendezvous and go out for dinner together. She was an aerospace engineer who served LTV/Vought Fire & Missile Controls (now, part of Lockheed Martin) .

For six months I was too embarrassed to show my face after what I perceived as my fall from grace, in addition to the fact that I lost the freedom of having my own means of transportation! I do not like to give what may be construed as excuses, so I never told her about my challenges; moreover, to reiterate, I never told my family either.

I probably underestimated her ability to appreciate my position, for I knew that she is an amazingly empathetic human being, and one of the smartest people I've known; nonetheless, I did not want anyone to feel sorry for me... if you like, just call it the outcome of my immature male ego at the time!

The boss, Massey, gave me an extra $50, and with a wink he said: "It's not much, it's all the cash I've got on me, but I want you to have a good time!" I was grateful and accepted his gift (especially in lieu of my low wages. I would demonstrate my gratitude for his personal stances, later).

You may ask: "How did you drive [the 82km (51mi)] to meet-up with your date?"... and I will answer: Do you remember that nasty 1982 Chevrolet Camaro Z28?

Well, it was still in such a bad shape that I could not sell it to make some badly needed money off it—under the circumstances. So, during my work breaks, or during the night, after work hours (which can be as late as 9pm), and on my working weekends when it was slow business at times, regardless of the weather, I spent time repairing it... surely for security, but I never worked on a car that used so many Torx and Hex fasteners! Massey helped consult with the mechanical repairs, too (especially when it came to rebuilding the carburetor, and timing the engine, and he even taught me how to weld steel to where I became very proficient), which was priceless aid and education.

I got it performing well, producing its famous rumbling sound from its dual exhausts, and looking near brand new cosmetically (after repairing the fender, painting it, and detailing the interior and exterior ... yes, I learned how to do body work professionally... being an engineering geek, with an artistic eye, made it easy! The secret: patience and an eye and light touch for detail.)

I was issued the "state inspection sticker " after it passed the vehicle safety and emissions tests, and it became my primary transportation, until later, when my fortunes turned, and I had a safe margin of saved surplus financial assets, I bought my Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme S sports coupe, which I still own!

I kept the Z28 as a backup vehicle, even after it was struck by lightning, while parked, during a tornado storm that hit Irving, Texas, near DFW International Airport , while I worked for the Allstate Dallas Claims Service Center (DCSC) ! I also loaned it on occasion to friends and family when needed. When I retired it, I gave it to my old boss.

Having had worked on it so much (along customers' cars), with its many, many, dysfunctions which required tracing performance problems using scientific logic (critical thinking), gave me another opportunity to intimately understand the electronics systems (the synergy and logical feedback loops between hardware such as sensors, actuators, solenoids, controllers, pumps, the ECU /PCM, etc., and the [embedded] software) that makes a complex machine, like a modern car, run efficiently and effectively.

From this experience, another computer tech invention was born in my mind, but I was not in a position to work on building any such gadget, yet... I had to wait... but I drew the design on my notebook, documented the logic process/workflow map , the pseudo code, and produced a complete grey matter dump of associated ideas to sort through later... it was a small electronic computing device I branded "Encogneeto?." We will return to talking about this device later on.

Alright, so, now, I had two streams of income, especially that his original pay was not aligned with being a "living wage ," but when I considered that I had an adventurous shelter to sleep in, it kind-of evened-out (as I told myself at the time)! In case you were curious, I still showered at the university's gymnasium, where I remained a member.

By the by! The date was awesome... it is amazing what being in the warm presence of an intelligent critical thinking woman (and in this case, bonus: beautiful too) can do for the morale of a man feeling downtrodden (I know that the opposite is true too)! What do you think?

Rise of the phoenix...

One morning, later in the morning, I was sitting in the driver's seat of a car while diagnosing the emissions monitoring system by "reading the codes" via triggering the download from the Assembly Line Diagnostic Link port (ALDL) , when someone tapped on the ajar door and startled me! It was a human-being whom I will grow to love as I would my own flesh and blood! His name is Omar Nabas. Well dressed, with a radiant face and smile, he asked for the proprietor of the business, which I advised him that he left to pick-up some parts and will be back in about 30-minutes.

He said that he was looking for a friend he knew from a long time ago, and he was told that my boss, Massey, could be he. He waited, and as he did, he and I spoke about many things, that is after he made a joke at my expense—rightfully so in someways—about how I was dressed for a mechanics job... you see, I've always dressed formally, often with a tie no less! Yes, even on campus, there were a few of occasions when students thought I was a professor, especially in the winter, when I was more formally [warmly] dressed! I must admit that I still err on the side of being formal! The way I see it, in my geeky mind, is that I can always take off cloths to be more casual if I am over-dressed, but I cannot dress-up with what I do not have.

We had a very interesting in-depth discussion about science and engineering, social sciences and politics, and more; furthermore, he opined—among many flattering bits of feedback—that he thought that I was intellectually much smarter than to be working as a mechanic at this place, so why am I? After acknowledging that I am nowhere above working as a mechanic, and that I actually have a passion for mechanics of any type, I am actually a college student... and I described to him the important highlights of my life-adventure up to the moment he and I met that morning.

He invited me to join him for lunch to discuss my situation further, which I gladly accepted under the condition that we have to wait till my boss returns and he allows me the break. Omar, returned to his car... at the time, he drove what I recall to be a later 1980s white Toyota Cressida ... nope, it was a late 80s Nissan Maxima . Massey arrived, and I introduced him to Omar. He was not the friend Omar was looking for, but both did become close friends, and still are! It is amazing how life reveals itself to us, and brings us together, when we are receptive... the unexpected, and the unplanned.

Omar and I went for lunch. During that time, he advised me that with the potential he sees in me, if I welcome his support, he'd like to give me some guidance as a brother. While being flattered and grateful, I accepted the offer immediately... my gut-feeling told me that he was an exceptional person, and I had an instant appreciation and sense of trust in this man... it was well placed, and following his lead was one of the best decisions I made in my life, as time will later prove!

"Data processing" in the corporate world, here I come!

Well, within days, a strong sense of comradery developed between the trio... Massey, Omar and I... Massey and Omar were of the same generation, I was the youngest, and we were meeting daily at Massy's, and spending the evenings there talking and working.

Omar proved to be a renaissance man : outside of being very knowledgeable with auto repairs, which was demonstrated when he once he took-over and completed the rebuilding of an automatic transmission, for a Toyota truck, when the process became complicated enough for Massey after intricate parts of the "brain's" valves, and order of clutch discs, fell apart; he also has degrees in physics (nuclear), math and computer science! He had contributed to the research that pertained to the SDI "Star Wars" program during the Reagan era of the Cold War , too... moreover, he also spoke English, Arabic, Spanish, Russian, and Ukrainian, fluently. He was working as a consultant for a small software development firm in town, a government sub-contractor, which I never heard of till then.

With Omar, I started frequenting our favorite hang-out: Half-Priced Books . Bookstores and libraries have always been like temples, a spiritual experience, where I am able to escape the 'savagery of humanity' as I still perceive it, lose myself in my intellectual pursuits, and get high on the aromas being emitted by the pinewood book shelves, the paper, and the ink! If you love reading books, then you'll know exactly what I'm talking about!

One day, he stated that it is time for me to move forward with my plan to get back to my college education so "to finish and graduate." He further advised that without having the basic comforts of life secured, such as a safe and comfortable home and place to rest, and a proper place to cook and enjoy a healthy good meal, it is hard to focus and think about further growth and being creative. I intently listened as he enumerated the plan, as it should be:

1. "We need to find you a job that's more appropriate for your level of intellect, personality, and knowledge, and has a more refined environment.
2. We need to find you a reasonable apartment, in a nice place, and furnish it to provide the needed physical, intellectual, and spiritual comforts, and the safety and dignity needed to help empower you with the clarity of mind and thought you will be needing to focus on conquering the growth challenges to come. Also, a place where you can feel proud to invite your girlfriend to, and to cook dinner for her! (I laughed, for I had talked about that with him one time, and he remembered!)
3. You need to buy a bigger TV, and a VCR, not for entertainment, but to use for studying classes on how to build and manage relational databases , how to create and manipulate spreadsheets , and then learn how to query, manipulate, and report on data. (He was to loan me the materials, and to mentor and test my acquired knowledge).
4. We need to build a proper PC for you to practice what you've learned from the tutorials. Also, I want you to learn how to program in HTML for online development.

He finally stated that I should not think that he is doing [me] "any favors, or giving you charity, for I am not. I'm expecting a return; I'm investing in you, for I have expectations, and faith, that you will succeed and make me, and yourself, proud. I know that you have what it takes, and all I ask is that when the day comes, you will help another person who may need help, too" (a promise I gave, and I have kept, repeatedly.)

Both of us started searching and studying published job advertisements, irrelevant of the distance from where I was at the time (Massey's), but still in the North Texas area; he even approached, and introduced me, to people in his professional and personal network too. He had already introduced me to his family after we met; he had a singular daughter, who is now a medical doctor (MD) specializing in Plastic Surgery .

One sunny morning, Omar stopped by Massey's shop while I was working, and after privately talking with him for a while, he called out my name and asked me to join him for a drive. When I opened the passenger-side door to ride, I noticed that he had a copy of a freely distributed classifieds periodical called the Green Sheet , laying on the front passenger seat, which on he had circled an ad with the blue ink Parker Jotter pen he always carries in his shirt pocket.

After I sat in the car, and while I held-up the half-folded paper, he tapped on the ad, and said: "you're going to interview today!"

It was a job for a Claims Administrator at Allstate's Southwest regional operations headquarters, a relatively large, and beautiful, campus, which was then called the Dallas Claims Service Center (DCSC), in Las Colinas .

My IT corporate journey, & college adventures, start in earnest...

It, forever, is about the quality of the company you keep...

[ ... TO BE CONTINUED ... ]

?? OTHER ARTICLES BY AUTHOR: https://www.dhirubhai.net/in/raedmalexanderayyad/recent-activity/articles/