My guidance counsellor thought you were nothing if you didn’t take academic classes in school.
I wasn’t the best at math, and trigonometry sounded like a bore. I took business classes with some other classes thrown in. He told me I wouldn’t be good for anything but street cleaning, with my attitude toward school. I disagreed with him, but his opinion really didn’t matter to me or my dad. From the time was six-years-old, I knew what I wanted to do when I was out of high school. I had been working in my dad’s HVAC company from the time I was old enough to reach the top bins in the parts department. I helped do inventory, and I could pick out AC parts from furnace parts. I knew how to diagnose HVAC problems by the time I was sixteen, and I would know which HVAC tech would be best to handle the job. My father allowed me to be the dispatcher one weekend, because our regular dispatcher was having a baby. Our HVAC technicians would take me along when they need an extra pair of hands. The best day I had so far in my life happened when I went on my first HVAC repair. I didn’t know the address, but I knew the name. I had to repair my old guidance counselor’s furnace. I wondered if I should remind him this was better than street cleaning. Instead, I walked into his house and showed him my HVAC ID badge, and asked where the furnace was. He blanched when he recognized the name, but said nothing.
