Aptitudes

When did you discover your density?

Have you always known what you wanted? Have you always understood what your unique skills, talents, and abilities were?

If so, you're lucky. If you were the kid who told your kindergarten classmates that you wanted to be a fireman...and then grew up to be a fireman, then I suspect you belong to a fairly exclusive club. Not many of us figure out what we are meant to do until much later in life. Sometimes not even then.

My first memories of career aspirations were inspired by (what else?) television. The show "Whirlybirds" made me want to be a helicopter pilot. That probably didn't last long.

Major Astro (see the previous post) made me want to be an astronaut. Watching Captain Kirk in action made me want to be an interstellar babe magnet. Seeing the Doors perform on Ed Sullivan made me want to be a stinking worthless long-haired hippie.

I actually sorta tried the hippie thing for a short while. I was moderately comfortable with flashing peace signs and saying "groovy" a lot...but since I refused to take drugs and couldn't quite grasp the economics of worthlessness, it wasn't a good fit. And besides, having long hair really bugged me -- it was a total pain in the neck for a competitive swimmer.

What puzzles me now is that I didn't really understand that the craft of writing might be something to pursue. I always got good grades in English class, but never interpreted that to be an indication that I had an affinity for language. In fact, in most cases I didn't like my English teachers at all. I had some great math and science teachers (Mr. Saft, Mr. Ruth, Mr. Cooper, etc.), but with the exception of the semester we made movies in Mr. Nixon's class, I never once found myself looking forward to English.

Making movies was fun, though.

I thought of becoming an actor, but two factors put the kibosh on that. One was that (despite my formidable kung fu skills) I couldn't act worth a hoot (see "The Tiger and the Dragon".)

The other was that I got really creeped out by being around Thespians.

Now, before you send me hate mail and accuse me of being homophobic, I want to assure you that my problems with Theater People had nothing to do with light loafers or exaggerated fashion sense. It was just the fact that the serious actors (gay and straight both) took their craft so darn seriously. "Drama is important! It's not merely entertainment, it's a way to teach Life Lessons."

Sorry, but I just couldn't seem to get aboard that train.

I won't try to argue that a good drama cannot inspire personal growth, or that Deep Meaning can't be derived from a story expertly delivered on the stage or screen. Heck, I learned all sorts of stuff about time paradoxes from "Back to the Future" -- but that doesn't mean that every word uttered in front of an audience has some sort of cosmic significance, and that each actor is some sort of divine messenger.

Their attitude struck me as pompous. Rather than embracing the subtleties and challenges of Shakespeare, my intellectual depth is more likely to revolve around banana peels and whoopee cushions.

But I seem to have veered off the subject. I think I was trying to make some sort of point about how an early recognition of my natural talents should have directed me into a literary career, rather than the rather eclectic and indistinct path I have taken instead. But since I'm obviously incapable of getting to that point, it appears that my argument disintegrates before it is fully formed. Sigh.

Perhaps I'll explore the topic in further detail someday when I'm not so easily distracted. In the meantime, I'm going to go watch entirely too many YouTube cat videos. Have a great day!