Tagged

I've been tagged by Kev Bayer. I know the rules; now that I'm “it” I have to continue the meme, and then make others “it”. In order to do that, I must pick five of the professions listed below and finish the sentence. Seems easy enough:

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an inn-keeper...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a world famous blogger...
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world...
If I could be married to any current famous political figure...
If I could be a dog trainer...

If I could be a musician... I'd want to be a rock star. I think the money would be better than fire department parades and Italian feasts, and I can tell you from experience that women do NOT throw their underwear at brass musicians or ask us to sign body parts with a magic marker. On the other hand, I'm kind of shy and traditional and wouldn't be comfortable in that lifestyle without a LOT of vodka, so I think I'd opt to be a jazz musician, dust off my trombone and remember the old syncopations and improvisations I used to do when I was younger. I'd find a nice cool dark place to hang out and meet quiet girls who dig jazz and poetry.

If I could be a chef... I'd be a LOT more than 30-40 pounds overweight. The treadmills in my gym would all be broken, assuming I still went, and while I'd finally have a marketable talent for attracting the opposite sex, I'd be physically repelling. Damn you catch-22!!!

If I could be an architect... I'd build the home of my dreams on a parcel of land I could afford on my architect's salary. It would overlook water and the beach would be a short walk away through some woods. It would have a large wooden deck and a great backyard for having all my friends over for barbecues. I probably wouldn't have a pool but I would have a jacuzzi or two. My living room would have a very high ceiling and large HDTV, as well as a projection screen for showing movies to my guests. I'd have an island in the middle of my kitchen with pots and pans hanging over it, and black marble countertops. There would be plenty of skylights, and downstairs I'd have a studio with a drawing table, as well as several computers, a scanner, printers, and a drawing tablet. With that kind of pad and my sweet income, I'd surely have a wife and kids, so there would a be a room tailored to her interests as well, and maybe a train running through the house like on Silver Spoons. There would also be a game room with both air hockey and pool tables. I'd have most every video game console, but those would of course be in the living room with the big TV.

If I could be a writer... I'd hope to be successful enough to hire an architect to build me that dream house in the woods, where I could find inspiration for my novels. I'd want to write stories that went beyond the everyday to things that interest me, from science fiction to fantasy to the supernatural, but that were grounded enough in reality and well-developed characters that they'd be accessible to all people, and maybe even bring disparate personalities together. If somewhere in some bookstore a cheerleader and a chess expert reached for my book at the same time, their fingers meeting seconds before their eyes, my work would be successful. It might be fun to write comics as well, and see better artists than I really give life to the characters in my brain. I'm NOT a writer unfortunately, but I think anyone reading this knows I've found an outlet for my desire to write.

If I could be a dog trainer... I'd still be afraid of dogs, but facing my fears everyday in a (hopefully) heavily padded suit. Eventually things I need would get bitten off, but not enough to kill me. By the time I retired, I'd be a shellshocked head and torso in a wheelchair, living in an asylum somewhere drooling and mumbling things like “...so many teeth...” Yeah. If I could be a dog trainer, I probably WOULDN'T.

There you have it, those are my five. I probably could have had something to say about all of those, but for now it's time for me to pick my targets. I shall tag J-No, AverageJoe, and FawnDoo. Carry on, gentlemen. Looking forward to your contributions to the meme.