How Did You Get Your Forum Name

Executive Summary:​

I'm a barber...at least legally. I worked in a shop for a while, but quickly found that my 57 year old back was not in agreement.

Details:
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In 2008, I was in a crisis. I had a horrible manager — think a Machiavellian used car salesman — and I knew I was in his crosshairs because I refused to compromise on my ethics.

How Machiavellian was he? The project I was dropped into was going badly. The vendor didn't know what was expected, and the employee I replaced had effectively walked away from the job. When the next project started, I wrote a detailed document laying out the goals clearly — making it 100% clear what needed to be done. I got yelled at for it. His exact words, paraphrased: "If you write a good requirements document, there's no way for me to demand extra work during the project."

The crisis came to a head when he expected me to work on Palm Sunday — one of the high points of the Catholic Liturgical Calendar — for a disaster recovery drill on a piece of software that was never going to be recoverable. My plan was simple: write "fail" on the report and move on. Had it been a real disaster, I would have been there to help in other ways. But I was not going to ignore my religious obligations for a test that was going to fail. Even the vendor said, "It won't recover — don't waste your time."

Keep in mind, this was 2008 — right after the stock market crash.

The conversation had been brewing for about two weeks. When I empahtically said I wouldn't work that drill, the manager called me into his office, leaned back in his chair, and said, "We've got to talk." I let him finish. When he slid the PIP (Personal Imrovment Plan - a list of unobtainable goals to give cause to firing) across the desk for me to sign, I reached into my suit pocket and pulled out my resignation letter. It was a jeans-and-T-shirt workplace — the suit was my personal protest that day. As he read the letter, he blinked and croaked, exactly like Mr. Potter in It's a Wonderful Life.

"You'll quit in a job market like this!?"

I said, "I've never been fired — let alone by an asshole like you. You're not going to be the first."

My last day? The day before the disaster drill.

I stood up, didn't let him get another word in, walked back to my desk, and my colleague looked up and asked, "What happened?" I told him he just got a promotion.

He stared at me. "In this market? What are you going to do?"

"Go to school and get my barber's license. I'm done with this."

And I did. The school ironically just obtained its license, and opened its doors just about the time this started to unfold. Irony? Sign?

In the meantime, a former employer brought me on board as a contractor while I went to school. One of the guys there had a habit — if he liked you -- he would give you a nickname. Mine was Sweeney. I loved it. The rest is history.
 
Prospector correspond to three of my life chapters:

1. I was a chemical engineer in the petroleum refining industry that required finding solutions to process improvements and trouble shooting problems. The answers required prospecting operating data and published literature.

2. I enjoy genealogy and discovering my family history. Going to libraries, looking through newspapers, tackling land deeds, and traipsing through cemeteries is full-on research (prospecting).

3. I am curious about geography and geology, which is why my camping adventures (with the 560) have taken me to all 48 states (except Arkansas, I don’t know how I missed that one). And to all southern provinces in Canada (except Newfoundland / Labrador). I have several “Roadside Geology” books representing western States. Many times I stop and explore interesting formations. Also, a prospecting activity.

Old because I was 68 when I took delivery of my CampInn 560 in 2015. I had retired the previous year.

I graduated from the Colorado School of Mines ages ago. The athletic teams are called the Orediggers, the mascot is a burro, and the School Student Annual is called The Prospector. Hence, I found an avatar that depicts an old prospector exploring for gold with his burro.

Hence, the name Old_Prospector.
 
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