Monday, September 17, 2007

Magic Toast

When other people have horrible things to say about me it’s easy to share them. When they say good things, it’s hard. Maybe it’s modesty. Maybe it’s just so rare I lack experience. Suffice it to say, the interview went well. All I remember is talking for like two hours about toast, but for some reason they seemed to find that fascinating.

According to my ‘people’ I came in a big underdog. The other person they’ve narrowed it down to seems to have a lot more experience (they certainly couldn’t have less) and they probably live in LA. So it sounds like my interview was supposed to be a formality, but it went well enough to get them thinking seriously (insanely) that I might be able to pull it off. We’ll know by the end of the week. If you can grow fingers by then I encourage you to cross them.

I like the project, and I love the environment, but that’s not why I want the job. Honestly, I want that job because I don’t want to be a Stay At Home Dad. Currently my work allows me to stay at home. When you get here I’ll be a dad. You put those together and you can see why I’m worried.

It’s not about diapers, or watching football, or the projected costs of a college education in 2026. It’s the fact that pursuing something, especially if you suck at it, is an inherently selfish activity. And parents are supposed to be selfless. We’re supposed to subjugate our needs and desires to insure you have the opportunity to pursue your own. And for most of the people (men) my age, that’s not a problem. They’ve got the job they’re going to have until they clog an artery or bring a weapon to work. Kids won’t change that. Parenting is like a cell phone plan for them and they’ve got the nights and weekends option.

That's not how it works here. Your mom’s the one with the schedule and the big paycheck. Even if she wanted to give it all up and hang out with you, it just wouldn’t make sense. I, on the other hand, work downstairs and generate enough income to pay bar bills, and your mom and I aren’t big drinkers. So how long do you think it’s going to be before the reality of the situation means that I’m watching Oprah and playing airplane with strained carrots instead of arranging words that no one reads? It’s not so much that I’m not ready to have you and support your dreams and ambitions. It’s that I’m not ready to give up on my own to do it.

Who knows, maybe my insane toast rant will be enough to earn me an office in LA and paycheck for doing what I love and you can watch Oprah with a Swedish nanny. I don’t know if you’re a male yet, so I don’t know to what degree that appeals to you, but if there’s an Y chromosome in there, it’s totally on my side.

Novel - Haven't looked at it

Dunking - Several feet to go

French - I remember Bonjour

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