The last person I met with a history degree was the fry cook I worked with at Houlihan's about ten years ago.
Been there, done that, seen that, although was never a fry cook.
I got a degree in the History of the British Empire and Commonwealth, a 4-year B.A.--that came about because I was just a green underaged teenager, and the academic adviser said I knew "too much" American history at the time, and so had to "try something more challenging," because I was there "to learn something new."
Of course, what separated me from the primitives was that even though I was a 17-year-old who didn't know Pedro Picasso's ass from a hole in the ground, I knew even then, with utter clarity, that such knowledge was not "marketable" on the job market; I never expected that degree to get me a job.
It's been a while since my salad days, when I was green in judgement, but I suppose I was counting on my interest and work in hardware to land me a real job. I was really into hardware at the time; Stanley screwdrivers, Mead pliers, Black & Decker power tools, True Temper hammers, door hinges, pipe fittings, nuts and bolts, furnace filters, chains, &c., &c., &c.
And yes, it did land me two real jobs.
But then circa my late early 20s, I succumbed to pressure from family (older siblings and peers) to do something "white collar" and returned to college to get a second four-year B.A., this one in economics with a minor in accounting. I myself wasn't enthusiastic about it, but figured all these other people knew more than I did, and so I should.
So I quit hardware and moved into accounting, which turned out a mixed bag.
After some years of that, I went into management, which surprisingly until I came back to the Sandhills of Nebraska in late 2001, was the bulk of my work experience.
There was one interlude where I spent two years taking 380-pound 20' lengths of steel pipe and bending them at 90-degree angles to serve as free-standing poles for basketball backboards. As incredible as it may seem, that was the job that gave me the most stress-free life, the most contentment.
But then I went back into management.
After that, I came up here to the roof of Nebraska, and since then have been wondering what the Hell I'm supposed to be doing, and where.
Search for the meaning of life, I guess.
But anyway, my point being that I was fully aware I was working on a college degree in a pretty meaningless (for the job-market) field, but because I was young, and the whole world was crashing down (something that took about six years), I just decided, well, I had to be doing
something, anything, and as long as it wasn't something that would get me into trouble, I should stick with it.
