A Promising Forecast

When my kids were growing up there was a family next door with five children. Four of them played sports. The fifth wasn’t crazy about sports, but he enjoyed many other activities — fishing, bird watching, catching lizards, and learning about all kinds of airplanes, just to name a few. Bradley was (and surely still is) a lot of fun to be around because he was knowledgable and exuberant when talking about his interests.

But Bradley’s true passion was weather. He could give you the projected high and low temps for the next month all across the country. He had gauges, sensors, anemometers, and hygrometers. He and his father would listen to something weather-related (not sure exactly what) on AM radio for hours on end while they monitored blinking green splotches of precipitation on a tiny digital screen. Bradley was our most reliable source for the over/under on potential school snow days. We called him “Blizzard Bradley” and he loved it.

In the summers when most of the neighborhood kids were swimming or running through sprinklers, Bradley was usually keeping an eye on the skies, ready to warn all the parents to “get children out of the water immediately” if a thunderstorm was within a 20-mile radius.

One summer day the collision of the hot, humid air with an incoming cold front sparked a brief but intense hailstorm. Whenever I hear the term “his head exploded,” I think of Bradley on that day. He was beside himself with a combination of childlike wonder and weather geek freakout. He quickly dumped the contents of his brother’s baseball bag onto their driveway so he could use it as a vessel to catch some of the little chunks of ice. You would have thought diamonds were raining down as he ran around with the open bag, tripping on baseball bats and empty sports drink bottles. He put the hail in their kitchen freezer. No one was allowed to touch it. It’s probably still there.

When Bradley was a senior in high school no one bothered to ask him if he was going to college or what he was going to study. No one had to. Meteorology. Bradley was a lock. He left for college with all the delirium you would expect from someone about to start living his dream. But within the first few weeks his delirium dimmed to hopefulness and then to pessimism and frustration. Apparently there is quite a bit of math involved in weather prediction. High-level math. Like the math on the chalkboard in “Good Will Hunting.” Bradley was extremely intelligent and a dedicated student of many subjects, but (you can probably guess), math was not one of them. Despite tutors, help sessions, and extraordinary effort, he barely made it through Calculus 1. With Calculus 2 and 3, and whatever mathematical misery comes after that, looming like storm clouds, he felt his dream was slipping away.

Fortunately, a very insightful and skilled advisor proposed a different major of study, one better aligned with Bradley’s strengths—communications. Specifically, broadcast media. The natural talents required for success in this field include the ability to share information in a compelling way; the commitment to building a reputation as a competent, trustworthy expert; and the willingness to find out everything there is to know about your subject matter. The natural talents required for success in this field do not include math. Bradley is now planning to be a broadcast journalist specializing in weather and weather-related safety issues. His grades and enthusiasm are soaring again.

I just looked at Bradley’s Facebook page to give you an accurate update on his current status. Under his profile photo it says, Communications Major. Future Action News Weatherman. Behind his profile photo is a giant radar map of New Jersey marked with meteorological symbols, wind speeds, and rainfall totals. And in his profile photo, Bradley’s smile is brighter than the sun.

In the next few weeks many high school principals and valedictorians will exclaim"pursue your dreams" or "follow your heart." However inspiring, this message is only 33% correct (pretty good math for a right-brainer). No matter how passionate you are, true purpose will elude you until you find a way to use your natural talents, in addition to your interests, in a meaningful way. Talents, passions, making a difference. Like Meatloaf said, two out of three ain’t bad. But it ain’t purpose either.