Passing off eccentricity as class requires some effort. I probably should have learned how to do something. You know- a craft. A trade. By the time I was twenty, I figured it was probably too late.
Here are a few that I knew would never work:
Indy car racing
At this point I have scooped mud from the hulls of barges, squirt hot sauce into bottles, written an automotive column. Oh, yeah- I did that love & fashion column for awhile, too. Laundered money for the Russian mob. Don't judge me- I thought I was promoting concerts.
Mostly I have stuck to endeavors that don't pay much. Well, don't pay anything, to be accurate. I'm a geographer! Nobody told me that the reason that thrift stores are full of globes is because somebody changes the name of a country every month or two.
Just within the last six months I have come to consider myself a philosopher. Thought it would look good on a resumé. Well, who pays the philosopher? What about my benefits? My pension?
My preaching thing has mostly just hurt my social life. I believe pretty much everything I preach, though, and I'm proud of that.
You know, I was always a little suspicious of those celebrities who didn't seem to have an occupation. Orson Bean. Monti Rock III. Arlene Francis. Dick Clark.
The indignity of being an unknown who doesn't do anything stings.
I'm glad I've opened up about this with you. I feel better.