My father thought computers were tools for secretaries - on which he looked down - and could not fathom why on earth it was interesting to me. Then he babbled about the one Fortran class he had to take at university, how backward those punch cards were and how he basically learned nothing. When a computer finally entered the house, I was so exited. The first thing I did was installing a copy of a programming language I got from a teacher and I was very proud to show my father. My father literally threw a tantrum. I basically had anti-mentorship. For the longest time my dream was to be unlike my father.
