Posted on

What do you want to do when you grow up


What do you want to do when  you grow up?

     I can remember back when I was young, my mother asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. At first I didn’t know how to answer her because I hadn’t been exposed to enough to know how to answer that question. I hadn’t had a “Career” Day, I hadn’t gone anywhere in my life, I never was prompted to think about it because, virtually my parents weren’t the kind of parents to volunteer any information on subjects like the “Facts of Life”, or anything else as far as that goes. I didn’t even know what an SAT test was until I heard that they were taking them while I was in high school on the day they took them. So for her to ask me what I wanted to do in my life, there was a large moment of pause.

     Then it hit me out of the blue sky like bird droppings! “I want to be a writer”. She looked at me for a minute, and she said “Then you need to experience everything you can. Be a waterfall as the water comes down, the wind as it blows, and the snow as it falls gently to the ground.” Well, that’s how it sounded to me when she probably just said, “Get out of here because I have work to do.” However, there was much to remember about that moment, I really needed some guidance. So there it was. I got out. I experienced, I exercised my brain, I gained a “vigger” for life that only the gifted had. I dove from 200 foot waterfalls, and later joined the service and fell out of the sky from helicopters, well, actually I didn’t “Fall”. I jumped from a repelling rope. But, it may have been the same thing, in a weird quirky sort of way. I went through a few wars, and then came home to find that it really didn’t matter to anyone what I had done, or gone through. To them, I was still the same kid who left the farm at 17 after graduation. My hometown was still my hometown, and the sky never changed color. So what was I going to do? I didn’t feel that I lived there any longer, so guess what? I changed it. I left again. I never went back except for a class reunion, to which I found the same people doing the same thing they did while in high school 20 years earlier. They had gotten back into their old groups and the whole time I was there with my (now ex-wife), I was the one who got up from my table and went to meet others who I remembered from my days in school. Only one friend that hung with me in school went out of his way to say hello. I really just wasn’t all that popular, but I did make an effort to try to be at that little party.

     I had done a lot in 20 years, and still more even after that time until now. My general thoughts have been that if what I did at the time didn’t have “Pizazz”, then I wasn’t interested. Which leads me to write this short blog.

     Now, I’m a writer. What do I do? I write. Am I interesting? Am I funny? Am I a serious minded individual who thinks his words are important? And what do I write?


     I write because I want to write. I write anything I think I want to write, and in any way I see it should be written. I do try to keep good standards though, just so others who read it can feel enriched in some small way. I’m a copywriter, and I write copy.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *