Memoir Draft #58
You will need patience to read the 58th draft of my memoir below. Or, just scroll waayyy down for my resume and other banalities. Or, skip it all and go treat yourself to some ice cream.
Once upon a Thursday, I was born, billions of years after the dawn of the Universe, which likely also happened on a Thursday. The next day (TGIF, right?) my family and friends began to let me know--in a kind and helpful way--that I am not the center of the Universe.
|
Early life living turned out to be not only necessary to achieve an advanced age, but also was an awesome experience nurtured with books and that other thing. My mom taught me early to tie my own shoes, which I continue to do now, all by myself. |
|
Emboldened by my shoes with the double-tied shoestrings, I stepped out on my own to also wear shirts and, therefore, fully qualify for service at the mini mart. |
|
|
School was fun. I have always loved to learn, especially nowadays during recess. My father, the university professor, would bring me with him to work, where I would sample the late 1960s/1970s campus vibes. These would be mostly engineering building vibes on early Saturday mornings while the students were in various states of neural frothiness. Based on the evidence, I convinced myself that college was going to be a breeze.
Later, as a college student, I enrolled in many noncredit "socials" that helped me score the "Like New" price when I sold my chemistry book back to the bookstore at the end of my first semester. So I realized then that they keep track of something called a "GPA.' All remaining 190 college credits were earned by crawling backwards uphill while dodging an avalanche of self-doubt. |
|
School was invaluable, and humbling. It was just like the adage "The more we learn, the less we know," except that everyone around me seemed to know more than me. Nevertheless, the future was all very exciting, partly because of hormones, but mostly because it was unknown.
At some point (on a Thursday, no doubt) I figured out that I ought to build my own path, however scenic and forward and bumpy and cracked it may be. As I wander along my path, I wonder about life's banalities. For example:
At some point (on a Thursday, no doubt) I figured out that I ought to build my own path, however scenic and forward and bumpy and cracked it may be. As I wander along my path, I wonder about life's banalities. For example:
- Am I paying enough taxes to fill the potholes on all the streets I use?
- Happiness peaks at the moment right before more happiness is needed.
- The circle of life is constructed day-to-day, with many sharp turns. Kindness smooths the edges.
|
During my school days, I started bopping a ball back and forth over a net with people called "teammates" and "opponents." This went on for 42 years, with an adequate number of time outs.
|
Fast forward. I have now survived my life long enough to have worked with many brilliant people on a bunch of stuff that somehow gets condensed into a rez ooh may where misspelled words are frowned upon. This grown-up document is the equivalent to telling the other Kindergarteners that you are the "shoelace-tying" expert.
This resume (I have spell-check skills!) and, for the incredible price of one extra click, this bonus volleyball resume, are now available to internet people and normal people alike. A really juicy resume about that thing is unavailable, no matter how many times you click.
|
Other unclassified archives of my past are on LinkedIn, stored in basement boxes, and briefly outlined below and wherever pressing the buttons takes you.
Please give my family and friends credit for any good stuff you find out, and blame me for the rest of it. You ask, "John Har..er..hanfoot, how have you managed to deny yourself fame and fortune for so long?"
Geez. Let's save that answer for the curators after the museum opens. |
|
The people and smelly animals who truly understand me know that I will never EVER totally self-actualize unless I am a shepherd, a cartoonist, and the first person to dip the spoon in a newly-opened jar of peanut butter. There are more items on my "Self-Actualization or Bust" list, including item #453: write with more self-restraint. Oops. too late. |
|
|
But since you already scrolled this far down on this web page, I will offer some concluding remarks. |
|
I'll keep working and playing in my studio until I can't tie my shoes anymore. When that time comes, I will celebrate, barefoot, nearer to the center of the universe, probably every Thursday, with books and that other thing. |
|
|
Dear People: Please do teach the children and loved ones in your life the joy of strategic pausing... to dig their spoon into a freshly-opened jar of peanut butter, slowly. Even better, join them. |
Say: JOHN HART R-A-NFT
|
Resume
Things that I have done, that I can remember, to earn money or resist becoming famous. My resume was updated a few years ago. The Short Version
Teaching: teacher, teacher trainer, coach, educational technologist Communications: writer and editor, researcher, information specialist, web developer, publications director Creative: mapmaker, graphic designer, instructional designer, content producer, program director Management: management consultant, project manager, sales, business owner Miscellaneous Services: bicycle tour guide, waiter, bookstore clerk, stadium sweeper, lawn mower & snow shoveler, newspaper deliverer In addition to learning on the jobs, I earned degrees from Johns Hopkins University [MS in Business], Penn State University [BS in Secondary Education/Social Studies] and Penn State World Campus [Certificate in Geographic Information Systems]
|
|
Volleyball Resume
My friends and experiences from the volleyball world are significant. I learned much from the sport community, and I've tried my best to return the favor, noted here, and most recently with The Volleyball Practice (TVP). |
Oops, were you were hoping to learn about this John Hartranft?
