What Else?
February 27, 2009
Cheers,
Mark Terry
In an interview someone once asked Stephen King if he hadn't been a writer what he would have wished to do. He said he wished he could play pro baseball.
I used to wish I could be a professional writer like Stephen King.
Now that I'm a professional writer (not like Stephen King, which is okay, I think), if asked the question, I would say I wished I could play the guitar like Don Ross.
How about you? Besides writer, what do you wish you could do?
Cheers,
Mark Terry
posted by Mark Terry at 6:27 PM
19 Comments:
An NFL referee because I'm glutton for punishment and writing doesn't provide enough ridicule.
Pro baseball player. No doubt. Rock star would be okay too.
Travis
That's kind of cool. Totally not on my radar, but cool.
Eric,
Rock star. Yeah, okay, I can see that.
I have lots of wishes . . . an astronomer . . . a physicist . . . a theoretical mathematician. A comparative religion professor (considering going back to grad school when Demon Baby starts kindergarten, so that one is possible). I'd like to be a singer--but totally tone deaf.
Yeah, Erica,
As totally weird as this seems, writing business reports has gotten me interested in economics--macroeconomics, mainly--so I keep thinking I should go back to school and get a masters in econ.
Either ... a field herpatologist or a chef. Or maybe a horticulturist. Or (if the position was available) Lord VanZile.
A field herpatologist? I hate snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?
Oh yeah, I did forget, Supreme Ruler of the Universe. Now there's a career option.
I love snakes. True story ... One vacation, I was with my mom and a few siblings at the Grand Hotel in Mackinac. You know how you have to dress up for dinner every night at the Grand? So we were processing from the dining room to the lower lawn for an event, in suits and ties and gowns, along with a big group of people. We were passing a juniper hedge, and I'll be damned: I saw just the head of a hog's head snake poking up above the branches. So I did what came naturally ... I grabbed that sucker and hauled him up out of the bush.
Unfortunately, hog's head snakes are those very THICK kind of snakes. So he was only about 2.5 feet long, but easily 5 inches in diameter around his midsection. And he was strong.
The snake freaked out and twisted in my hands. I wasn't prepared for him to be so strong, so he flung himself out of my grip, toward my mother and sibs. He was briefly airborne, then landed with a thud on the ground and fled through the crowd ...
Naturally, chaos ensued. I think I almost killed my mother that day. Then she almost killed me.
Jon,
Now that is a great story. I've been to the island a few dozen times, but never inside the Grand (although on the porch). My wife and son took a band school trip up there last year and ate at the Grand. I've got to have them read your story. They'll love it. It's a family joke that I don't like snakes. When we go to the Detroit Zoo they make fun of me because I'm reluctant to go in the reptile exhibit. (I'm not really, they're fine if they're behind glass). When my oldest son was in daycare they brought in some people to show off exotic animals and they had a big snake, probably a boa constrictor or small python and they were taking pictures of the kids with it draped over their shoulders. They said, "Mr. Terry, do you want to have your picture taken?" I just stood against the wall and shook my head.
Snakes, why did it have to be snakes?
I reckon my choice would be a farmer. Yeah, a farmer. Not a modern agribusiness farmer driving a tractor bigger than the average house, but a small, organic, market gardener feeding my community well.
Not likely to ever happen with my feet so firmly planted in the dry high desert sands of northern New Mexico.
Last year my son's dog was barking, just raising hell at something in my ex-wife's back yard. My son walked out there and lo and behold was a six-foot diamondback rattlesnake coiled with its head raised and rattles rattling, ready to strike. My son shouted to one of the neighbors, who came over with a .22 and shot the snake. Then the same neighbor skinned it, fileted it, and deep fried the meat. They ate it. They ate the fucking snake. My son still has the skin and the rattles.
So, Jon, it's possible to be a field herpatologist and a chef at the same time. ;)
As for "What Else?", I would like to try acting. I still might do that some day.
Ballet dancer or figure skater, definitely.
Other than that, I kinda like being a musician and writer.
Holy crap, Jude. Just holy crap.
I haven't killed a rattlesnake in twenty years, but I do move several each season. I pin down the head, catch them with my hands and we take a long walk together and have a discussion of why it's unsafe for us both to have them living so close to the house.
A knitwear designer. Well, okay, a clothing designer in general, but with a natural inclination toward knits...
Seems like a few folks here should be snake charmers!
Is being a writer a second rate job? This is what you do when you can't be a snake charmer? I believe the most important choice is being the best at what you actually are, even if this is a daydreamer who puts those dreams into words that other people can relate to, enjoy, and come back to read again.
Richmond,
The original question was aside from writing, what's your dream job?
I have my dream job, at least mostly. Would I prefer to write only fiction? Yes, maybe, but I would want to do pretty well at it (okay, it's a dream job, I'd love to be a bestseller, then).
Maybe I should explore the "yes, maybe" comment a little bit in this blog.
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