Career Day

It's Career Day! Well, not really I just wanted to talk about jobs and stuff. Still, I am nothing if not a giver so here's a cute little song featuring kids and hats. I seem to have an unseemly preoccupation with hats these days.



Careers are funny things. Sometimes we choose them and sometimes they choose us. Take me for example. "Please!" as my wife would say but then she thinks Henny Youngman was a historian so what does she know. I was seemingly born to be a Soldier and Cop. I can take abuse (witness the aforementioned wife), look reasonable in blue wool serge and love wearing bus driver caps.

I could never have turned to a life of crime. Stealing, lying, all those buried bodies. And that's just local politics. Still, I seemed destined for a life in uniform. But that's not what I wanted. I didn't want the violence, the late nights, the bad porn mustache. When I was a lad I wanted something else, something refined and genteel. Something that didn't require exposing my tender skin to danger and the heartbreak of jock itch. Oh no my friends. I wanted to be....

A ballerina.

Not a ballet dancer like Rudolf Nureyev but a ballerina like Anna Pavlova. Wearing leotards and a pink Tutu. Flowing gracefully across the stage performing Croise Derrieres and Efface Derrieres. Heh heh. Derriere.

But, alas, it was not to be and why you may very well ask. I mean, I wouldn't ask because I'm just naturally incurious but you could. Anytime now. Ok, I'll just answer.

Because Racism, that's why. Apparently bald, clumsy, middle aged, fat men cannot be ballerinas. As if that were some cosmic reality writ large upon the vast continuum of the ethereal universality. Yeah. I went there. I guess ballerinas must be thin, beautiful and of the gender known as 'Female'. So I never got to realize my dream of dancing Swan Lake at Bubba's Repertory Theater and  Rib Joint where every Friday is Hoe Down day. But that doesn't mean I don't still have that urge every once in a while...

Such grace. Such beauty. Such brain freezing awesomeness. Once seen it can never be unseen and you'll never view ballet the same way ever, ever again.

You're welcome.

Six