What do you want to be when you grow up?
We ask kids this all the time. Especially… when someone is trying to make conversation with a kid. You know how it goes….. “What grade are you in? What is your favorite subject? What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Most of the time they give an non affecting… “I dunno.” Why would they tell a total stranger… or for that matter…. anyone at all?
I didn’t. I found out pretty quickly that certain aspirations were met with… either a patronizing response… or a spoonful of jeer.
Yet. When I was little, I totally knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. (It would morph from time to time… but I always knew.) I wanted to be Barbra Streisand as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl. I wanted to be the starting shortstop for the Cincinnati Reds. I wanted to be one of the Jackson Five. Yes… it would change… depending on the season.. I suppose.
But I had three standards. These were the three biggies.
Mark Spitz. Saint Francis. Dr. Doolittle.
I know what you are thinking…. all three were pretty unrealistic. And in fact… none of them came to an exacting fruition.
On the other hand… Let’s break it down… one by one.
As for Mark Spitz. Well. I DO swim every day.. when weather permits. I have never won seven gold medals swimming. But I eat Gold Medal Flour. The bottom line is…. though…. I love being in water. So I get in water.
Now St. Francis. Nope. No Sainthood here. That fell through the cracks a long, long, long time ago. But I am kind to animals. I care about animals. Just like Franky-boy… I think they are worthy beings.
On to Dr. Doolittle. Same genre. Different dude. I talk to animals all the time. This is so easy… I am surprised more people don’t do it. But. Then there is the rest of it. Some of the times… I can guess what they might be saying back. But. This is the hard part. The listening.
We THINK we know what they are thinking… but DO we?
Take our fish for instance. Ethel, and Esther, and Josephine.. will eat right out my hand these days. But then there is Bertha. We have nicknamed here the bus. And here is why. She is a bus. Like Jerome Bettis. She has Steelers colors too. But I digress.
Every morning, noon, or night… when I feed the group… Bertha sneaks up and splashes the holy-heck right out me. It never fails.
You can bet I talk to her. I tell her all about my Catholic upbringing… and how we used to have big Fish Fry’s at the Church. I tell her how much I love fried fish. With tartar sauce. On a bun.
Well…. it is in one fish ear… and out the other. She’ll splash me tomorrow morning. You can count on it.
So… I guess I don’t have the Dr. Doolittle thing quite down pat. Or for that matter… the St. Francis thing. Maybe I should just get in the water… and swim with her. Like Spitz.
“If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.” – Flavia Weedn
“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” – C.S. Lewis