Hello on a humid August afternoon,
I am regularly told I’ve led an extraordinary life, from students asking where I am jet-setting off next to regular reactions of surprise or disbelief because of the various experiences I reflect upon as a matter of course; it’s just how my life has unfolded. Certainly, from the outset where I came into the world a bit early, there is some level of being atypical. And perhaps, for some, being in a third household before the age of 5, although still within my you biological family, continues that same divergence, rather anomalous life before I ever entered public school. I have been encouraged to do somewhat of a timeline of my life more than once, and so in the manner of the Sunday version of the Family Circus cartoon, here it is. Hence my title.
While growing up adopted had its challenges, knowing about it was not one of them because I was almost five years old, and as I have noted in other posts, I remember that day clearly. I think it was much more difficult for my sister, for multiple reasons, but she was always quite intent on finding our biological parents, where I, on the other hand, had no real interest in that nor felt the need to do so. Furthermore, in spite of some of those difficulties, I am sure that growing up in the Martin family provided me opportunities and afforded me the chance to do things that would not have even been considered had I grown up in Texas, where my mother would go shortly after we were taken from them. Additionally, while perhaps being in the Martin household changed some of the fundamentals of my life, most of what I did post-high school, occurred because I searched it out, figured out how to best manage the possibilities, and availed myself to options that presented themselves along the way. That was something I had begun to figure out (though most often I did not realize it) by the time I was 15 or 16 years old. I would leave home, only returning because my father implored me to do so, before my senior year in high school. However, within a month of graduating, I would be at MCRD in San Diego. That would be the beginning of a life of experiences, visiting places and learning things I never fathomed as an undersized, naive, and personal, but shy boy from the poorer section of town. High school was a reasonable experience, and while I did excel from time to time, at moments in the classroom but most often in band and choir, I would say I was above average for the most part. The reason I stood out, if at all, was because I was so small. I was probably one of the smallest males in my class even when I graduated from high school.
That size would also cause me to be noticed in Marine Corps Boot Camp, and anyone who knows that experience knows, sticking out is not always helpful. My name became “Private Chicken-body” or House Mouse, as I was tasked with managing the Drill Instructor’s space each morning also. It was after boot camp that I would find that I was perhaps more capable than I realized, graduating second in my Communication and Electronics schooling as well as finding out my GCT score qualified me for Platoon Leaders class, which I turned down twice (perhaps not one of the more intelligent decisions of my life). My enlistment in the Marines would provide experiences never duplicated anywhere from overseas deployments to meritorious promotions. I got my first job as a technical writer, something I would come back to later, when I was cross-trained as a Service Record Book (0121) clerk . There was a lot of growing up to do from the scrawny boy with the oversized ears to when I would find myself back in Sioux City after my discharge. The next few years would provide a wealth of experiences, some of which still influence me today. I learned to bartend, to serve, to prep in some incredible restaurants. And those of you who know me are well aware of my propensity for playing with anything culinary as well as an interest in wine and cocktails. I must give Aunt Maude’s, a restaurant that still exists in Ames, Iowa for that introduction. From that time in the late 70s until today, being involved with food has been integral to my life. Currently, there are over 2,400 food pictures on my phone, and much it things I have created. The late 70s would also begin my multiple forays into the field of higher (post-secondary) education. And while the first attempt was a miserable failure (much of my own making), I would turn that around in a big way. I still remember Father Fred (as he was fondly and respectfully known) telling me, “Mikey, you will do fine unless you just fuck off.” Truer words were never spoken! The two years from when I would fail out of Iowa State University and return to Dana College to start over, I would travel the entire Midwest, logging 48,000 miles as a member of a Lutheran Youth Encounter team. It is when I learned to play the guitar, something else that would become an important part of my life. The next decade, the 1980s) where I would first realize I was somehow a decade behind in my life development would be paramount to who I am.
The fall of 1979, I would begin my journey as a student, one for whom it would be the first time I was committed to my education. Dana College, where I had visited the year before, seemed to be not only where I needed to be, but it was my last chance to see what I was capable of doing as a student. What I know now is, up to that point, seldom did I dedicate myself to my studies. I had merely gone through the motions, and even with minimal effort, I was capable. So what might happen if I actually did my work? My first fall at Dana was a learning experience from every aspect of my life, from the classroom to the extracurricular things I did, from simply relating to my classmates to beginning to see what I might actually achieve. I was scared that I would not measure up in any area, but found out with simple hard work and honesty amazing things could happen. Those four years, which included some time away at the University of Iowa, where I would be an honors student, included more travel, more cultural experiences than one might ever expect to occur on the bluffs of the Missouri River in a little Nebraska town. It changed my life in immeasurable ways. As I have noted in other places, I learned how to learn, to study, to think, analyze, and synthesize. Those skills were what prepared me to succeed in life. Dana was where I finally began to believe I was capable; it was the place where I pushed myself to see what I was capable of. It was the place where, as an adult, I fell in love with someone. It was the place where I found an insatiable desire to learn and understand the world I had been exposed to as a 17-year- old Marine. It was the place I really began to understand what it meant to be faithful. And yet at times, all that learning was overwhelming, perhaps even suffocating. That was the reason for running away to the University of Iowa for a bit. And yet Dana would call me back, and the choice between seminary and law school would be decided. Going to seminary was always both beckoning and somehow foreign to me. And while I did well there, a part of me never felt worthy enough, faithful enough. I remember my second life telling me once I was an academic Christian. I think she was more correct than I understood, and its amazing how that has transformed as I have aged. That is not to say that I do not think critically and ponder, but I think the connection between heart and head is much different now.
While this is not something I regularly do, most often my posts are a self-contained event, I think I will pause here. At this point, I have made it to the decade of my thirties. I will pick up there in the next blog, so much like a two episode television show, you will have to tune in in the next few days, and I will continue my dotted-line path of my life version of the Family Circus, Michael-style. I heard this song this morning playing where I have morning coffee, and I heard the lyric “16th of September I’m lying in my bed.” That is my birthday, so I decided it would be the song to post here.
To be continued, thanks for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 