Cindy

Droog

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January 7, 2008

Dreams of My Son’s Career: Brian Williams, Yes, a Cubicle, No

When I was pregnant, my husband and I fantasized about what our son would be like. Before he was even a newborn, we imagined him as an adult. My husband pictured an ethical Senator, as he believes they do still exist. Perhaps even a future presidential candidate the likes of John F. Kennedy.

As for me, I pictured a famous journalist. No less than a Brian Williams, who’s serious enough to travel with the troops, yet holds the sense of humor to host Saturday Night Live and actually be good at it.

Now that he’s 18 months old, we still believe he could be those things. But we’ve also come to accept the fact that he has his own imagination, and his dreams will be different than ours. At this point, all we can hope is that word “cubicle” isn’t in his adult vocabulary. Unless of course, he really wants it to be.

Thus was our conversation the other night after giving him an empty diaper box and watching what he’d do with it. First, it was a car. Then, a bed for Elmo. Then, turned upside down, a stove with pans atop it. So, if that behavior is a crystal ball, he might be a limousine chauffeur. A doctor caring for a patient. Or the Emeril Lagasse of the next generation.

After he went to bed, we had to laugh. For if it was our box to fantasize with, we know it would have been either a Plinko game or a large map. Let me explain.

Fostering imagination in our kids is one of our top priorities. And it shouldn’t be difficult, because my husband and I both have active fantasy lives. When American Idol comes on, I’ve been known to use my wine glass as a microphone and belt out Mariah with the best of them. During the Iowa caucus, my husband gave me, word for word, what his concession speech would have been if he were John Edwards.

We often talk about our fantasy careers. In real life, he’s a salesman. Exciting, right?

As if my career in corporate communications is one that is oh-so-coveted. For that matter, both salesmen and public relations executives are notorious for being ethically questionable and full of spin. He and I are trying to shatter those perceptions, but it’s not always easy.

So it comes as no surprise that we’ve often longed for careers that didn’t involve an uphill battle, had nothing to do with cubicles or rental cars, and were easy to explain to our grandmothers.

As for me, I dream about being a Barker’s Beauty on The Price is Right. They might be called “Drew’s Dames” or “Carey’s Cuties” today, but the premise remains. Someone else does your hair, makeup and wardrobe every day. You look amazing. You hug grandfather clocks; sit in hot tubs that aren’t filled with water; smile a lot; and wear great jewelry that you’re not responsible for keeping track of.

My husband also dreams of a career in television – as a meteorologist. A man obsessed with weather, he isn’t satisfied with what he should wear the next day unless he’s checked the predictions from ABC, NBC, CBS, the Weather Channel and at least a couple of web sites. He’s a morning person, too, so getting up at 4 a.m. just means he’d get to enjoy bacon and biscuits sooner than normal.

Of course, meteorology doesn’t quite hold the same accountability as sales, and that’s quite the selling point. Meteorologists get paid the same salary if they’re only right half the time. On the other hand, commission-based salesmen get nothing if their prospecting efforts are off.

These are just some of the concepts about making career choices that our young son doesn’t understand yet. I guess all we can do right now to keep him from becoming a chauffeur is keep our TV tuned in to game shows and the Weather Channel.

We don’t want to squelch his dreams, but we can cross our fingers and hope it sinks in.   

© 2008 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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