It's not this one.
My wife and I were at a party this evening -- the annual holiday party following the board meeting of the regional theatre where my wife works. A woman who has known me for probably eight or ten years asks, "So, are you still editing?"
This woman is not unintelligent. For that matter, when she worked for the theatre, she used my services. She was directly involved when I copyedited, proofread, and indexed the self-published book the theatre put out about the theatre's founder.
Why people ask me if I'm still editing is a mystery. Has anyone since I was 24 years old ever known me to do anything else? (Throw in proofreading, and you can back that number up to 20.) Have I ever exhibited any other marketable skill? Can I build anything, design anything, fix anything, sell anything, create anything, or perform anything?
In order, the answers are no, no, no, no, no, no, no, and no.
Is editing a way station, a hobby, a disreputable pursuit, or a stage in life?
Um . . . no, no, no, and no.
I think I once responded to an MD who asked me this question, "Are you still a doctor?"
Drives me nuts.
4 comments:
I am categorically unqualified to do anything else. Okay. Wait. There are lots of things I can do. I just can't make money at them.
P.S. I have yet to figure out what, exactly, bothers me about Vampire Weekend.
22-year-old loves 'em. I think he saw them on a Tuesday in Charlottesville and then that weekend at Bonnaroo. Czarina loves them. All I can say is, at least in this song, they don't bury the fucking lead. I'm sure I've heard their songs a ton, but this is the only one I can identify as them. And it worked for the post.
Here's my fave group in recent memory. Sure to hold your attention for about 75 seconds:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcY5czIND-A
Tool and Portishead walk into a bar and . . . it takes 10 minutes to get to the punchline.
But I can dig it.
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