My calling

Fourth class, 9 years old and our teacher decided we should be thinking about the future instead of painting with our fingers.

“Ok class, yesterday we all learned about the different jobs that your daddies had.  Some daddies are plumbers, some are painters, some are doctors, and Jessica’s daddy is even on TV.  Today we’re going to talk about what you want to be when you grow up, and why.  Who wants to go first?”

“I do miss”

“Ok, Sophie, what do you want to be when you grow up and why?”

“Well miss, I want to be a nurse just like mammy because she helps sick people and they’re always so happy when she makes them better”

“What a very nice reason to want to be a nurse.  It’s a tough job, but a very important one.  I bet you’ll make a great nurse”

“Thanks miss”

“Ok, who wants to go next?”

“I’ll go miss”

“Ok Kevin, what do you want to be when you grow up and why?”

“I want to be a lorry driver like my da because he gets to travel all over the world and see great places and meet interesting people”

“That’s a tough job too, but it would be a great way to see the world, and the world will always need lorry drivers.  This is going really well class, who’s next?”

“I’d like to be an actor miss”

“Well Maxi, why don’t you tell us why?”

“You can pretend to be anyone else and make people laugh or cry.  You escape from your own self and take your audience with you” (A bit much for a 9 year old, but it was a quote from a Michael Parkinson interview that stuck with me)

“I suppose being paid a lot of money to be in films would be nice too, and all the famous people”

“I don’t mind about that, I just like pretending”

“Well, I bet you’ll make a great actor Maxi”

Fast forward to college and I’m in a sound engineering course.  I’ve just found out that all of the students from the year before passed with flying colours and none of them have a job even remotely related to sound or music.  Our tutor doesn’t seem to understand why I’m a little upset about this.

“A qualification doesn’t guarantee a job.  I ended up teaching because I was sick of working with crappy bands in temple bar for a quid an hour.  Do your exams because you’re nearly finished anyway, but then go and do something else.  You were in that play, weren’t you?  I know someone in an arts college”

“Fuck it.  I’ll go and do some amateur pantomimes and a couple of dodgy variety shows, then when I lose my passion for it, I’ll end up as stage crew in a community centre somewhere.  After a couple of years working my way around stage, lighting and set building, I might try to direct.  But it’ll go nowhere, because who really cares about what amateur group is doing Grease this year.  I’ll try to make a short film and submit it to small film festivals, but I won’t even get a courtesy reply.  Then while sobbing into a bottomless glass of whiskey, I’ll answer an ad looking for video camera operator for a student film.  One night at a cast party, the lead female will fellate the director.  Partly for a bet and partly to get more scenes and her name above the title.  I’ll film it for the laugh and stick it up on Youporn.com.  With a 5 star rating in a matter of hours, I’ll realise that I have a flair for pointing a camera at people fucking for money.  Following years of smut pandering I’ll die alone face down in my pool while my ladyboy house maid raids my safe”

“Alright, well good luck in the exams”

Present day and an email lands in my inbox asking if I’ve ever directed porn or thought about doing it.  Fact.

Since that little rant at my tutor was more accurate than a Stephen Hawking long division sum, all I can keep wondering is this:

Why didn’t I at least try and guess the lotto numbers a few times?