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It was roughly fifteen years ago when I read a short article featuring Keanu Reeves—one of those lazy, one-page, back-of-the-magazine, Q&A format pieces where all of the content was generated from a quick phone call between the writer and the star.1 It was probably People, Entertainment Weekly, or another one of those rags.

One of the questions asked of Reeves was something along the lines of “what would you be doing if you weren’t an actor?”2 I don’t remember his answer, but he followed it with something I’ll never forget. Paraphrased here:

“But I love acting. I get to be someone different all the time, do something different all the time. Who would want to do the same thing their entire lives?”

That quote has sporadically rattled in my head ever since.

Last week, I was driving when I saw a billboard advertising an eye surgeon who’s been around for at least twenty years. I thought about what his life must be like now. He’s long past all the stresses of med school and his residency, long past working for someone else, long past building up his business and his brand. All he has to do now is show up every day and consult with new patients, and probably once or twice a week do actual eye surgery. He almost certainly makes well over a million a year, probably two.

Maybe it was arrogant, but I thought: I could’ve done that.

It may or may not be true. I’m pretty damn intelligent, but who knows if I could’ve hacked med school? It doesn’t matter anyway; what mattered was my next thought:

And I’d be bored out of my goddamn mind by now.

I’ve never really understood how anyone picks one thing to do with their life, then just does that one thing until they retire or die. I don’t care what that one thing is. I once considered law school, and I have a good friend who’s a personal injury attorney. The dude has a beautiful wife, a huge house, an Aston Martin, two Ferraris, and a Range Rover. I know I could’ve easily graduated from law school and chased ambulances, living that life.3

But I know for absolutely certain that, at some point, I’d look at my calendar and say, Jesus Christ, another injury consultation? This is it? For the rest of my life, this shit?

My wife likes to joke that I should write a book about all the careers I’ve had, have, or talked about having. It’s a long fucking list. I’ve already been a surgical equipment rep, accountant, sales tax consultant, standup comedian, Uber driver, roofing sales rep, mortgage broker, wireless rep, and process server.

Just off the top of my head, I’d at one time or another seriously considered being:

a schoolteacher
an Apache helicopter pilot in the Army
an actor
a park ranger
a sportswriter
a commercial pilot
a police officer
a football coach
a software programmer
an engineer

Jesus, the list goes on.

But in the end, I don’t think any one thing, no matter how awesome it is, could’ve kept me satisfied and fulfilled my entire life. I just always…itch. I have to move. I have to experience new things.

I’m not ashamed of this personality trait, but it does have its drawbacks, not the least of which is the choice between instability or abject boredom. All the jumping around from life to life was fine when I was single and only responsible for myself. But I’m married with two young daughters now. My family needs to feel safe, secure, and provided for.

Thus, the choice has been boredom.

But I’m feeling the itch again. I need a change. A move of some type. My wife Evi’s business is doing well so there’s not as much pressure on me.

But to what?

If you read my last piece, you know I’ve really been struggling to write my typical humorous, lighthearted fare due to the current political climate. The only itch I’ve been able to focus on is the one that flares up every time I watch the news. This constitutional crisis is weighing on my mind so much that I feel like I need to get off the sidelines and do something about it.

Could I perhaps be…a political writer?

FUCK NO. Not that that is not an admirable field; it’s just that I’m grossly unqualified. There are thousands of way better, more informed writers from which you can get your daily outrage.

However, I’ve received a few suggestions since that piece that more or less said, “Hey, why don’t you write about the current news, but make it funny?”

Eh.

That’s a toughie.

But it does sound interesting.

Okay, there’s no way I’m going to become a political humorist, where every piece is about politics. But if I can channel my rage at the current administration in a healthy, humorous way, every other essay or so, maybe I can then finally feel good about writing about funny, if trivial, adventures again. Or at least stop screaming into a pillow every morning during breakfast.4

It certainly won’t be boring.

~JCS

Political Humor? You Mean NOW?

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