ON THE EVE of our forty year high school reunion, i thought about the guy who decided to go to med school, the guy who started up the corporate ladder, the guy who went to creative writing school, and me.
The doctor and the CEO are now winding down highly successful careers, having chosen well, and stuck with good decisions. The CEO is so successful that he evidently was able to trade in his soul mate for a younger model, which in america is always a sign of success.
I never had any idea what to do, so i did a little bit of everything; teaching, small business, advertsising executivehood; but, somehow, ended up with the house and car, and thus, a winning show. The NO wife no kids plan helped me save money.
What interests me is the creative writer. He went to a prestigious undergrad school, and an even more prestigious MFA (master of fine arts) school, and graduated both times. But today his entire life centers around UFOs, ascended masters, and the channeling of spirit entities.
In other words, non reality. No mention from him, in over thirty years, of where he works, where he lives, what he has, what he does. none of the typical american upper middle class brag-chatter. Which is actually quite refreshing.
In junior high and high school, the would be writer was every bit as establishment oriented, every bit as conventionally ambitious, as the would be doctor and would be CEO. But he chose writing as a career, which was a big mistake. Never choose writing or art or music as a career. Get a real job, then pursue your art, and, if it hits big, it hits big.
In his case, it didn't, because he writes too intelligentlly to sell, so, he entered paranormal realms.
The most successful classmate? I am! I have a big back yard, and three beautiful housecats! The doctor has his doctorin', and associated social status, the CEO has his inc., and associated social status, and my paramornal buddy his his unlimited realms in which to be as successful as he pleases. Flaming successes, us all.
No comments:
Post a Comment