To Dream The Improbable Dream

First, I want to apologize for not getting back to you yesterday. I know you were glued to your computer, waiting, breathlessly, to hear more of my fascinating tales of unfulfilled goals and ambitions. I meant to write, but I was tied up most all day yesterday getting a petition drive going to try and change the name of the Maymont bear.
You know, if someone had held a contest to come up with the most asanine, the most ridiculous name you would give a bear who lived in a park in Richmond, Virginia, I would have thought Phoenix to be a pretty good choice. The name has nothing to do with bears, with Richmond, with Virginia (there is a small town named Phenix, but that's about as close as you could get). It's not an especially pretty name. It doesn't say "wild and growly" to me. I am dumbfounded.
But we'll leave that to another day. If you do want to sign my petition, please let me know. And, if you're like me and adore the name, Bobby the Baby Biting Bear, give me a shout out.
I was talking previously about jobs I always wanted, no, make that careers, but for one reason or another, never achieved. I mentioned the circus. I think I would have loved that, even if I was just shoveling elephant droppings. I really would have liked to have been a hobo, but hopping freights, as enjoyable as it must be, would probably not have been my forte. I'd have probably lost a leg on my first hop, and there's nothing more pathetic than a one-legged hobo.
But my all-time most favorite career would be a book-mobile driver. I remember my first book-mobile. (Who doesn't?) I remember as a first grader at Boones Mill Elementary School, in Franklin County, a book-mobile came to the school. I remember thinking to myself, "Why, this is almost like a library on wheels."
I remember climbing on board, and seeing all those beautiful books. I knew from that day on that when I grew up I'd be a book-mobile driver. Sometimes you just know things. And, sometimes you're absolutely wrong. This was one of those times, because for whatever reason, I never became a book-mobile driver. Maybe it's because I have poor depth perception. Those big side-mounted mirrors stick out way too far on the big rigs. I think I could have been a book-mobile host. You know, riding along and then when the book-mobile got to wherever it was going, I could open the door and welcome people aboard and even make some recommendations. As strange as it may seem, whenever I would apply for such a job, the book-mobile people would just stare at me and shake their heads. Maybe I was just a little too ahead of my time.
When I was about twenty, I dabbled with the idea of starting my own book-mobile company. I thought maybe I could buy a cargo van, and install shelves, and go buy some discount books at the book store and drive around town. Some of my friends discouraged me saying that no one would want to crawl around in a van looking for books. I felt that if I kept the really good books on the bottom shelf, perhaps my customers wouldn't notice.
That was another sticking point...customers. It seems that most people who use the services of a book-mobile are very tight with their money. They expect book-mobiles to just lend out their books at no charge! How in the world can a guy make a living doing that? Why just the cost of gasoline would put me out of business within about three days.
So that was that. My dream burst like one of those big bubbles that the truly professional bubble blowers whom you see on TV can blow. Hey, now, that's a career I hadn't thought of. Excuse me. I'm going to go do a little research.
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