Christopher Vardas
1965
On graduating from Cleveland, my immigrant father's intention was for me to go to college. It seemed a reasonable choice, despite an unremarkable high school career. Although I wanted to become an architect, my Dad thought I should be a math major like my brother. But, since I also inherited his gene for disrespecting authority, I choose Economics. It didn't take long before I switched to math. By 1967, I discovered that n-dimensional calculus and physics required a differently wired brain than the one I had. I also discovered fencing, geography and making money by working nights at Lockheed. Despite our best efforts, my dear friend Tom Capicotto and I couldn't figure out a way to translate our sharpened skills into money. So, I continued making airplanes. Once degreed, I found I was a better worker than student, so I chose to continue working. By 1972, the roller coaster world of large-scale government contracts had run its course.
Shortly after, I headed back to the Bay Area trying my hand at working as an insurance underwriter. Three years later, I decided that I wasn't suited to marriage or suits and white shirts. So, I bought a ticket to Europe and spent three glorious months wandering around countries whose languages I didn't understand and served food I didn't recognize. I did recognize art and buildings of antiquity. On day one, in London, I nearly tripped over the Rosetta stone and found my hero's (T.E. Lawrence) crypt marker at St Paul's Cathedral. And that was just the beginning. However, reality struck that my money was nearly exhausted and that I would have to return home and settle down. I spent a morning in some lovely Parisian park contemplating my future by listing all the school experiences I liked in junior and high school. It seemed like a good idea to try my hand at something I actually liked doing. I scratched projection room work because I remember spending most of my time chasing loose reels of film across classroom floors. I couldn't think of any job that could use hall-monitoring skills so I opted to go into printing. I remember I liked the smell of the printer's ink, setting type and running a small printing press (success was keeping all my fingers intact). So, I became a project manager, learning all I could about offset printing, magazine design, organizing ads and catalog assembly.
Along the way, I discovered thinking. A new concept for me, I tried thinking about why the job was so hard and had a hunch that there was a better way to organize my work. My brother, the computer whiz, told me about the Commodore 64. I thought it was a musical group but he informed me that it was a computer. Still stinging from my failure in math and calculators, I was skeptical computer programming was something I could do. Lacking any measure of common sense, I bought one, learned to program at night and found a new career. Eventually, I migrated north to Portland in 1984 where I was given a chance to use my newly developed skills in programming and familiarity with printing processes. As much fun as commercial printing was, like airplane manufacturing, the business suffered from well-intentioned, creative folks who failed miserably at running businesses. So, with my new skills not fully developed, a small hospital group north of Portland gave me a chance to try my hand at programming in the health industry. For twenty five years, I worked for a corporate entity as a trainer and programmer in support of the pharmacy computer systems for six hospitals.
I got to travel a little, work a lot, learn how to spell aspirin and meet some terrific people along the way including my wife (of 24 years). Now retired, we live in Portland, Oregon, travel a little and occasionally dabble in photography and keeping the old house standing. I look forward to reconnecting with Cavaliers as I try and recall and retrace my very shy high school years.
Shortly after, I headed back to the Bay Area trying my hand at working as an insurance underwriter. Three years later, I decided that I wasn't suited to marriage or suits and white shirts. So, I bought a ticket to Europe and spent three glorious months wandering around countries whose languages I didn't understand and served food I didn't recognize. I did recognize art and buildings of antiquity. On day one, in London, I nearly tripped over the Rosetta stone and found my hero's (T.E. Lawrence) crypt marker at St Paul's Cathedral. And that was just the beginning. However, reality struck that my money was nearly exhausted and that I would have to return home and settle down. I spent a morning in some lovely Parisian park contemplating my future by listing all the school experiences I liked in junior and high school. It seemed like a good idea to try my hand at something I actually liked doing. I scratched projection room work because I remember spending most of my time chasing loose reels of film across classroom floors. I couldn't think of any job that could use hall-monitoring skills so I opted to go into printing. I remember I liked the smell of the printer's ink, setting type and running a small printing press (success was keeping all my fingers intact). So, I became a project manager, learning all I could about offset printing, magazine design, organizing ads and catalog assembly.
Along the way, I discovered thinking. A new concept for me, I tried thinking about why the job was so hard and had a hunch that there was a better way to organize my work. My brother, the computer whiz, told me about the Commodore 64. I thought it was a musical group but he informed me that it was a computer. Still stinging from my failure in math and calculators, I was skeptical computer programming was something I could do. Lacking any measure of common sense, I bought one, learned to program at night and found a new career. Eventually, I migrated north to Portland in 1984 where I was given a chance to use my newly developed skills in programming and familiarity with printing processes. As much fun as commercial printing was, like airplane manufacturing, the business suffered from well-intentioned, creative folks who failed miserably at running businesses. So, with my new skills not fully developed, a small hospital group north of Portland gave me a chance to try my hand at programming in the health industry. For twenty five years, I worked for a corporate entity as a trainer and programmer in support of the pharmacy computer systems for six hospitals.
I got to travel a little, work a lot, learn how to spell aspirin and meet some terrific people along the way including my wife (of 24 years). Now retired, we live in Portland, Oregon, travel a little and occasionally dabble in photography and keeping the old house standing. I look forward to reconnecting with Cavaliers as I try and recall and retrace my very shy high school years.
During a visit to family in Sacramento (March 2014)
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With my wife Elaine, taken on a dinner cruise off the Big Island of Hawaii (November 2013)
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Comments
For a shy guy in high school, Chris certainly ventured out into the world and took lots of risks. His story is one of never quitting no matter what. He made himself a successful person through perseverance. What a great story. Way to go!!!
Dick Eyster
Dick Eyster
I never realized what a wit you were, Chris. I really enjoyed reading your story. You were always so quiet and shy in school. Who knew there was a stand up comic hiding in you. Thomas told me about your achievements in fencing at CSUN and he says you're a very talented photographer. I remember you from school (yeah, as much as you tried to hide, people noticed you). Thank you for having the courage to share your interesting life. Look forward to seeing you and Thomas and Mike (Osher) at the 50th.
Jeff Davis
Jeff Davis