Families can be a pain in the ...

I had not planned on this being the next post on this blog. I expected to go into the promised timeline or maybe the expenses of setting up my business. But a single phone call can change everything...

If you haven't read The Beginning, or even if you have, you will not know that I started my business selling personalized books back in September of 2005. I finally quit my day job on April 25th. I sent an email out to my extended family (brother, two sisters, dad) this past Friday to tell them I had quit my job. My brother should have known - I told him six months ago that I planned to quit in April. My one sister knew it was coming soon, my other sister in Texas had no idea. My dad...Now that is the difficult one. I had not told my dad either that I was starting up this business or that I planned on quitting my job.

Why not? That is a tough question, and the answer has a lot to do with father/son relationships in general, and specifically the relationship between me and my father. First of all neither me, nor my father are particularly communicative. It was actually my wife who told my one sister about the business, not me. And after the phone call I spoke of above (which came from my brother, not Dad) I raged to my wife that if my father dared (he wouldn't) ask why I hadn't told him, that I would say, "If you had once asked how my job was going in the last three or four months I would have told you about the business. But you didn't so I figured you didn't give a damn." Something like that. But of course that is not all there is to it.


Some info on my father is needed here. Dad grew up a poor Wisconsin farm boy during the depression. He worked his way through college (probably the first in his family to go to college) earning a degree in Electrical Engineering. He spent time in the AirForce, met and married my mom, and ended up settling in Mom's hometown in Virginia. Worked fulltime, earned a Master's Degree in Engineering, helped raised four kids (all four of whom went to college, three of the four, including me, getting Master's degrees themselves.) (My mother was the typical Super Mom of her generation, by the way - worked full time plus single handedly handled every household chore and child rearing duty.) Then Dad decided to start his own business. And of course succeeded readily. Dad's owns a small engineering firm, with million dollar contracts, and twenty or thirty employees. A far cry, he must think, from my sad little personalized books business.

I am forty-one years old. I should not need the approval of my father anymore about the decisions I make in my life. But that, I believe gets back to the nature of father/son relationships. I didn't tell my father about starting the business because I did not think he would approve. Of course, I knew he would have to find out sooner or later. We live only thirty-five miles apart, we see each other regularly. He comes up for the kids (his grandchildren's) birthday parties where my wife's family (all whom of course have known for ages about my business) attend. So I sent the email Friday, before telling him became too awkward.

And than the phone call yesterday. The call came from my brother. My wife answered because I was out happily walking the dog. So I didn't get to/have to talk to him. So Dad had called Steve (my brother) and got him all worried about this horrible thing I was doing with my life. And Steve called me. What are they worried about? I take it they think I am going to drive my family into deep debt by trying this stupid business venture out. I must be wasting my time and money on a foolish internet scheme. I am obviously too stupid to realize what a silly thing I am doing.

I love my wife. She has supported me, if not 100%, than at least 99.99%, through this whole process. As she talked to my brother she got angry, and she let him know her feelings. Her view, and she is probably right, is that they, my brother and Dad, believe that there is something demeaning in selling personalized books. That it is somehow beneath me, or beneath someone in their family. "Whatever," to quote my ten year old daughter.

Dad I understand. He has always been a self-absorbed elitist. I love my dad dearly, but I also see and accept his flaws (as I hope he sees and accepts my many flaws.) My brother, I am more surprized and disapointed in. He is the one who has studied Buddhist Philosophy, who spent two years in the peace corps in Africa, who has traveled throughout Africa, Asia, etc. I thought he would have accepted and appreciated someone who decides to try something different with their life. Who doesn't want to follow the same path as everyone around them. I guess I was wrong (he said dripping with self-pity.)

So I spent the rest of the day yesterday angry, sad, struggling with oncoming depression. It didn't go away until I coached my eight year old daughter's soccer team to a 7 to 2 victory. I love my family.