Five Dream Jobs I Can’t Have Anymore

Last week I turned thirty.  The big 30.  My Youth with a capital ‘y’ is now in my past.  I’m in my early serious adulthood and on the backend of the acceptable “quarterlife crisis” age range.  So what better time to lament over jobs I’m too old for?

1. Professional Baseball Player
When I was a kid I really dreamt about being in the World Series.  Playing third base for the Phillies, and contributing towards the first World Series win since ’80.  Of course dreaming about and working towards are two different things.  I think every guy has some kind of weekend warrior big league dream.  No matter how out of shape and horrible their skill, we still hold on to the hope that both goalies go down with ham strings that John Stevens is going to look into the crowd and point at us.  But at 30 I think it’s safe to say that there are no scouts at the local outdoor basketball courts checking out my rock hard three point shot.

2. Porn Star
Damn you.  Damn you to hell, Ron Jeremy for your average, every man looks that give us average guys hope.  It’s your hairy, rotund ass that gives us hope that not only can we nail strippers on the daily, but that we can actually get paid for it.  And you and I both know that every job becomes a “job”.  At some point we would end up sitting around a porn set thinking, “Jesus Christ, another threeway?  Every day it’s the same damn thing.”  So I guess, Ron, in a wierd way.  Thanks for taking one for the team.

3. Kept Man
If I could combine my loves of staying home and playing video games, with being handed money for doing nothing then I would be, as the elderly say, “Happy as a clam”.

4. Adventurer
I think the days of the khaki playboy are long gone.  There was a time when instead of ‘backpacking’ around Prague for three months, spoiled little rich kids would go backpacking through the jungles of Borneo for three months.  It’s the Indiana Jones lifestyle.  The excitement of going from sitting in class to having Sean Connery burst through your door, “Son, the ancient fertility god of the Aztecs’, I have a map.  Let’s go.”  And you’re off.  But now, I think I’m past the point to become a semi-pro archeologist.  So I’ll have to pay for all my passport stamps.

5. President
George Bush has certainly proven that any dumb bastard can buy the title “Commander in Chief”.  But really, the job’s been ruined.  In today’s age of wall to wall news, a dude can’t get a little bee-jay in his office without the whole world finding out.  And trust me, if I’m the President of the United States of America, and I can’t levy that power to get a little strange now and again, then I’m going to blow some shit up.

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