In the post below it would appear that I’m doing the work of a lawyer. Not so. I’m not even sure that this is what paralegals do, or maybe just the office secretary. But it occurred to me that today in particular, as I read through legal documents on one hand, then check in at Steve’s to argue educational matters, I’m sort of defining my life: Jack of all trades, Master of none.
At some points, the two topics have intersected; I’ve been accused by a friend that my letters and e-mails sound like I’m trying to sound like a lawyer, using terminology that’s legalese. Here’s where it holds the mark of the education discussion: Reading and reading and writing and writing have given me a slight advantage. It’s certainly doesn’t all come from watching Shark.
But here is the clincher: I’m going to die without having been a teacher, a lawyer, an artist, an author, or any one of the things I ultimately have dabbled in without making a complete fool of myself.
Which brought me to this: One of my favorite movies as a kid was the 1961 film The Great Imposter with Tony Curtis, based upon the true life story of Fred Demara who impersonated a surgeon, a policeman, a monk, and as the Amazon review states: His deficient ego is simply there, daring both himself and the audience to wonder what drives on a man who has such limitless talent at improvisation but such limited belief in his own identity as Demara.
Which of course might have had me thinking since time is a-growin’ short but on the other hand, I’m at the age where it might be believable. Then again, it’s also sort of depressing.
I love “Shark.” James Woods is just, so driven. And his elocution, my God.