If

If I could be a scientist . . .

Well I could be. In many ways, I am. I'd be studying fundamental, higher order truth of some kind. The kinds of truths measurable in numbers. Like physics or macroeconomics or evolutionary biology. Chemical engineering is cool. "Starting with methane as your only source of carbon, make 2,4 dichlorotoluene".

If I could be a musician . . .

I'd like to play something portable and fun. If you play the piano, you have to hope there's one where you're going to be if you wish to play for folks. The violin seems pretty versatile. Celtic, Classical, Baroque and Bluegrass.

If I could be a doctor . . .

I wouldn't. I had a chance, but deep down knew it wasn't for me. Modern medicine has denied the moral agency of the physician. If the family says unplug her, you must unplug. If they say leave her plugged in, you must. The doctor's ideas about what's right or wrong don't enter in.

I would have been a surgeon.

If I could be a Painter . . .

I almost omitted this one. I'd probably do Georgia O'Keefe color harmonies with Van Gough brush strokes (I love how his paintings seem to wriggle and writhe). I'd probably be just surreal enough to be interesting, like the way iconography is just cubist enough to make you look a long time.






If I could be an Innkeeper . . .

I wouldn't. Just what I need: a job with ungodly hours and frequent contact with the unwashed, entitled masses, and I'm in a "service" role. It would quickly lead to violence. Bad idea.

And now I get to victimize some people. Irish, you're on. As ought to be Caloovy, if he ever shows up. And I think I'll reach out to Bookend.