In The Beginning

Once upon a time there was a young man who, after changing schools three times and majors six times finally found a home studying architecture. His reasons, like countless others before him, were fame, fortune, and as Freddie Mercury said everything that goes with it.

Architecture, in case you didn't know it, is the coolest job in the world. Every office supply ad or depiction of the heroic small business person usually features what appears to be an architect's office. Why? Is it the architect, with their eyes fixed slightly above the horizon? The interesting looking models of buildings? The hip, modern office furniture? In a word, it's allofthat. Plus, it's a great way for people to think you are really good at math when you barely passed basic algebra (For whatever reason, people confuse structural / civil engineering with architecture). Architects don't have time to do math, remember they're looking past you to the horizon.

This cockeyed optimism was quickly dispersed as the young man ventured into the real world and found work at a large, distinguished firm and found that fame and fortune was a long way off. Long hours, late nights, and verbal abuse were the routine.

The young man, as was his wont, put his nose to the grindstone and ended up getting some attaboys here and there and found himself on the verge of ensconcing himself in the upper echelon of associates in the office. Of course that would mean even more late nights and verbal abuse having observed as much. There was also percolating discussion with his wife about starting a family (something quietly frowned upon by the powers that were).

It was at this point that our hero decided to do something drastic, something crazy, something the architect heroes of the past would demand of him. He left. He dusted off his old dreams and went for it. Across the Hudson and into the hinterland of New Jersey he fled. Where was he going? Stay tuned to find out . . .

For more adventures, check out http://www.pickuptruckarchitect.com/