And that has made all the difference...

Yeah, I know it’s hot, but I’m not going to write about it.

Really, what’s there to say? When the weather channel says your home is “96, feels like 106...” that tells the whole story.

My people left Norway only about 150 years ago. That’s not nearly long enough for evolution to make weather like this acceptable. There’s nothing for me to do but whine and hydrate.

So, today I’m writing about paths not taken.

This summer Number 3 and I have been spending a lot of time together. He’s been working around the farm, and I’ve been grateful for the help. He’s 18, about to start his senior year in high school and trying to figure out what to do next. I try to never give specific advice – all three of our kids followed paths I would not have predicted, but they all turned out all right, so I’m perfectly willing to let people stumble in whatever direction they choose. Other than telling him to show up, work hard, keep his word, and treat people well, I’m staying away from any specific career choices.

He’s a good kid. I’ve never sensed a profound commitment to an academic career from him, but I’m not one to talk. My plan in high school was to study just hard enough to not get yelled at, and I didn’t always succeed at that.

On the other hand, this year he’s been taking flying lessons and building a computer, so he’s clearly got more on the ball than I had when I was his age.

I know he’s worried about what he’s going to do the rest of his life, but he needn’t be. Worry about the next five years, ten years tops. It’s kind of a fool’s game to try to plot out the next half century of your working life.

When I was a little older than him, I was finishing up an undistinguished freshman year at Hamline University. My girlfriend worked at the Saint Paul campus of the University of Minnesota, and she and I used to cruise Como Avenue, next to the State Fairgrounds, and admire the neighborhood. It wouldn’t have taken too much of a switch for us to be living there now, with me as a recently retired Social Studies teacher and her as a department head.

When I was growing up, literally all my relatives were farmers, nurses or teachers so I was unsuited for any job that wasn’t also a crusade. I mean, if I’d become a millionaire hedge fund trader I probably still would have been invited home for Christmas, but I would have gotten some teasing.

So, I became a farmer and I loved raising food to feed people. But my default answer to most questions is “yes” and that’s what I said when I was asked to be on the Soil and Water Conservation District Board. I said the same thing when I was asked to serve on the Holy Trinity Hospital Board as their token Protestant. That sowed the seeds for running for county commissioner twenty years later. If I’d just stuck to farming, I’d have a lot more money now, but I would have missed out on a lot of interesting stuff.

If I hadn’t been asked to teach junior high Sunday School, I wouldn’t have ended up repairing hurricane damage at a church in Jamaica, building bonds with a group of teenagers where the letters I wrote to them after they left home became the basis for my weekly column that now has gone on for over thirty years.

I know a few people who plotted the path they were going to take when they were twelve and followed through. Kudos to them. For some people, their career is the defining role of their lives, but for others a job is just a way to put food on the table, and their real lives revolve around friends and family. I’m not willing to judge either one. For many of us, a life well lived involves astonishing twists and turns.

I don’t know if Number 3 is going to listen to any of this. But if he shows up, works hard, keeps his word, and treats people well, he probably doesn’t need to.

Copyright 2026 Brent Olson