My life-long list of vocational ambitions—in the order they occurred to me:  drive garbage truck, hit home runs for the Chicago Cubs, be a pastor, teach school, write for a newspaper, be a radio announcer, become president, become a college professor, become a lawyer, broadcast Cubs games, be a counselor, become a bishop, become an author, be a tour guide. Let’s do a quick review and see what really happened.

As for driving a garbage truck, I was five at the time—and actually more interested in rooting through everyone’s garbage than I was in driving the truck.  With such proclivities, it is doubtful I would have ever achieved “employee of the month.” Probably good that one fell by the wayside.

My next ambition was to play for the Chicago Cubs.  But it turns out I can’t hit any ball thrown at me faster than 2 miles per hour.  With a wide tennis racket, I can sometimes swat a ball back where it came from.  But I’m not so skilled with a baseball bat.  I’m pretty good at catching the ball, but so is my daughter’s dog Fitz.  The Cubs didn’t need him either.

As we all know, I did become a pastor.  Given my earlier interests in life, the big break in my pastoral career came when I got moved to a church with a large dumpster—and a softball team. Not the same thing as a whole garbage truck—or the Chicago Cubs—but ministry can be fulfilling in ways people don’t often think about.   

As for teaching school, I started to major in elementary education when I was in college, but thought I knew more than my professors, and so I switched majors.  I think I was arrogant before I started college—so don’t blame my professors.  But I will say this about teaching school—a quote from a delightful novella I just finished, by Fredrik Backman, And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer.  A grandfather is talking to his grandson.  

“He always wants to know everything about school, but not like the other adults, who only want to know if Noah is behaving.  Grandpa wants to know if the school is behaving.  

‘Our teacher made us write a story about what we want to be when we’re big,’ Noah tells him.  

‘What did you write?’  

‘I wrote that I wanted to concentrate on being little first.’  

‘That’s a very good answer.’”  

I could never get churches to behave, so I doubt I’d have had any luck getting schools to.

This brings me to my news reporter/radio announcer possibilities.  I was most interested in newspapers (as my long time readers may remember) but by the time I was in college, radio personalities were starting to have a critical impact on our politics.  I might have been persuaded away from the ministry (which was my first choice in those days) but I had no connections in the world of journalism—and so I stayed with the system I already knew best—the church.

With my love of history, and the history of the presidency in particular, how could I not want to become president?  I didn’t fancy all the guff you get when you are the top dog, but the perks of the office are amazing.  

When I first started college, and then went to seminary, I was amazed at how smart my professors were.  As a freshman in college, I thought my professors were really bright—and my dad was really…well…not so much.  But by the time I got out of school, my dad seemed a lot smarter, and my professors…well…maybe I should be paid for doing that.

The reason I thought about becoming a lawyer was because so many people suggested it to me.  The suggestion usually went like this,  “you are so obnoxious and a pain in the @#$%, and you argue with everyone, you should be a lawyer.”  So, I thought about it.

After it was clear to both the Chicago Cubs and myself that I would never make their 25-man roster, I yearned to be a broadcaster.  What fun to go to the ballpark every-day, have the best seat in the house, and tell everyone about the games.  But then I remembered that being a Cubs fan is better than being an announcer.  As a fan, I can always find something else to do halfway through the baseball season, and not waste my time staring and mumbling at another loser team.  But if I was a broadcaster, I’d have to watch them all season long—every inning—and talk about them without using profanity.  Just don’t think I could do it.

I thought about becoming a counselor.  Pastors do lots of counseling.  And some people tell me I’m really good at it.  Other people who’ve tried me out do whatever it takes to avoid me after that, usually getting themselves straightened out so they won’t have to see a counselor ever again. So, all in all, I have a pretty high cure rate.  But while I can be really patient with people, it’s mostly an act, an exhausting act, and I have a low threshold when it comes to waiting around for other people to shape up.  For myself, I’ve been patient with my flaws for years.  Maybe that’s why I don’t have much toleration left for others.  A counselor’s work is so slow.

As for being a bishop, you don’t have to get along with anyone once you become a bishop.  You are the big authority.  The trouble is, in the United Methodist Church, you have to get along with lots of people—because you have to get elected to the position first.  You have to be comfortable with the system—and not complain about it or try to change it all the time.  Unfortunately for me, I have always thought the system was broken—and headed for a plunge off the cliff.  (I’m turning out to be right on that one.)  It is impossible to get elected bishop if you are a tinkerer and trouble-maker like me. And so I crossed that job off my list.

We finally come to the last two vocational ambitions—write a book and become a tour guide.  I’ll see how fulfilling these two are.  If they turn out to be a bust, I’ll just look around for some other vocational possibilities—maybe that I haven’t thought of yet. 

It seems like a vocation ought to give one a sense that the world is a better place for our having done such a job—whatever it may be.  Can I make the world a better place by writing books?

My first effort is now published.  I have sold about 300 copies of the book—half of which I bought myself and am trying to resell.  The book has been out two months now.  February is a bit slow, as according to my Amazon account, I have made 9 cents in royalties since the first of the month.  But heck, I’ve been in Mexico, and there’s not a Spanish word in my whole book.  Didn’t expect to sell much while I was away.  

I set up an Instagram account to help me promote the book, and it took me three weeks before my daughter Mindy could teach me how to use it.  It’s a 50-50 bet right now as to whether my plunge into all this promotion-technology will help sales—or scare people away.

Finally, I inquired a year ago about becoming a tour guide with an organization called, ToursByLocals.  There evidently isn’t much of a worldwide demand for tours of Urbana, Illinois.  And so they asked me where the nearest interesting place was.  Turns out to be Chicago.  This past week they got back in touch with me and said they are short of tour guides for Chicago.  So, I am now tour guide number 56,391. I assume we are not all located in Chicago.  My specialty for tours will be history, politics, and religion.  I have no idea what this entails, but plan to get a few good Sunday Posts out of it along the way.  

If this tour thing doesn’t work out, however, I might just start my list over again and see if they need any local garbage truck drivers.  I’m finally at an age where I can be trusted to not root around in other people’s trash.