Growing up in a lower middle-class community on the south side of Chicago, virtually everyone important in my life, my family, my teachers, my girlfriend, wanted me to be a doctor. Overtime, their dreams became my dreams.
They convinced me I should be a doctor, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't do it. I was unable to make myself into the person that I thought I should be, so I decided to stop trying. I was 21 years old when I dropped out of college.
During my California springs and summers, I spent most of my days in the High Sierras in Yosemite Valley, working as a river guide and a rock-climbing instructor. I loved those jobs, but unfortunately, they didn't pay that well. So, I also got a job working a couple of days a week as a computer programmer back in Berkeley.
I had learned program in college. I didn't love programming but it was fun and I was good at it. I started taking classes at UC Berkeley. I took several classes, but the only one I can remember was a sailing class taught at Berkeley marina. When my class was over, I wanted to buy a sailboat.