When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
When I was five years old, I had my entire life figured out—well, kind sorta… I was going to study dinosaurs—AKA a paleontologist. While other kids were learning how to color inside the lines and avoid eating glue, I was busy memorizing the scientific names of dinosaurs, plotting locations to find new dinosaur species, and explaining to my stuffed animals the finer points of the Cretaceous period.
My love for dinosaurs wasn’t a passing phase. I had an impressive dinosaur collection that I proudly shared with the local library for a special exhibit. That’s right, I was a nerd. While other kids were showing off their soccer trophies and macaroni art, I was loaning out my prized velociraptor figures to educate the masses. I was basically a tiny museum curator, except with fewer responsibilities and a much higher chance of tripping over my own shoelaces.
Fast forward to college, and while I didn’t end up pursuing paleontology as a career, I majored in Anthropology—because what’s the next best thing to studying ancient lizards? Studying ancient humans, of course! And just to keep my inner five-year-old happy, I even took a few paleontology classes. I never did discover a new species of dinosaur, but I did discover that pulling an all-nighter to write a paper on Neanderthal social structures can make you feel like you’re living in the Stone Age—and lead to more alcoholic beverages.
Ironically, despite all of this, I ended up with a career in aviation. So, while I may not be digging up fossils, my head is still in the clouds—just with a lot less dirt and a lot more turbulence. And honestly? I think five-year-old me would still be pretty impressed. After all, aviation is about as close as I can get to riding a pterodactyl these days. Dreams evolve. Sometimes they just grow wings.
Crock’s Thoughts 