In the 1840s, Great Grampa had to go see his school counselor:
"Olá Chico, do you know why I have called you in?"
"Yes, Senhor Conselheiro. It's about my career-aptitude test result, isn't it?"
"Smart fella! Yes, it's in this folder. I have seen its content and cannot explain it."
"But sir, there are only three careers in Portugal, convict, farmer and sailor. What else could there be?
"Look for yourself, Chico. Probably a computer glitch."
"But it's the 1840s. Computers are over a century away!
"That's a glitch."
"Sir, it says I am to be a sailor AND a farmer...in America! It also says, 'Watch out for jet lag.' What is jet lag?"
"Bate o inferno fora de mim. But consider the compass: it points north on land and sea or any direction in an iron cage. Good luck, Chico. Your future awaits!"
So, being a gentle sort, Great Grampa signed onto a whaling ship that supplied pets to people with really big fishbowls. It was a fad that never quite caught on, and created an emergency at sea --a financial one. The captain ordered that all hands abandon ship and go join the Gold Rush. It looked like this:
Great Grampa had never seen gold and couldn't imagine what color it might be, so he was reluctant to test his ability to prospect it. He headed up the delta into the valley to raise vegetables for the booming populace of miners booming in boomtowns, and was by all accounts happy about it. Then his hearing went funny. Great Grampa thought maybe all the booming hurt his ears and he should get help. Otologists were rarer than computers back then, so he got married and asked his wife what was wrong with him. She got out the globe:
"Look," she said. "Here you are in the old country."
"Yes, an upstanding young man."
"Of course, Chico, but then you came to America. Notice anything?"
"Meu Deus! I am standing sideways!"
"That's right. It has affected your inner ear, made you lazy and uncoordinated. Stand sideways long enough and your body hasn't the least idea what time it is or what it ought to be doing!"
"What does one call this calamity?"
"I have heard of this! There is no cure?"
"Not yet. Like computers, jets are far in the future and generations will come and go before the problem is identified, even longer 'til remedies are found."
"Oh, I have condemned our descendents to great suffering."
"No, they'll just be night-owls who can't really think until noon."
"Will they hate me for this?"
"No Chico, they'll be thankful you didn't jump ship in China."