Job shmob

So I'm like 56 hours away from my first summer off since 1998, and already thinking about the next job? No, not really. But, I do still cast a jealous eye at those who (from where I sit, anyway) have dream jobs.

Here we go, in honor of the gainfully employed — 5 (or so) People With Whom I'd Trade Jobs:

The Commissioner of Baseball. I mean, anyone is better than Bud Selig, so why not me? My platform: Buck O'Neil goes into the Hall on Day 1. Jackson and Weaver are reinstated; Rose is not. The AL Designated Hitter is preserved, as is the Wild Card. Instant replay is outlawed forever, as is the use of asterisks in the record book. The latitude of power for umpires is greatly increased, as is their accountability. Ejections for unsportsmanlike conduct go through the roof. Pierzynski is automatically fined every time he speaks. And whenever Bonds homers, he must pee in a cup at third base before being allowed to proceed to home plate.

Sure, I'd have to deal with a ton of crap (greedy owners, spoiled players, angry fans, sanctimonious senators) — these days it really is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't kind of job. But if I could wield the power of Kenesaw Mountain Landis, tempered by the principles of Happy Chandler, and buoyed by the courage of Bart Giamatti...

OK, maybe not. This might be one of those be-careful-what-you-wish-for situations, so maybe when it comes to baseball, I should go with my second choice of jobs: Safeco Field DJ. Then I could blast Bob Dylan's “Rambling, Gambling Willie” every time Bloomquist comes to the plate, the “Juicy Fruit” jingle for Sheffield, and “Money Money Money Monnn-ey!” for A-Rod. And I'd play the sound of a lightsaber firing up every time Ichiro holds his bat vertically in front of him. Oh yeah, and no more friggin' “God Bless America” during the 7th-inning stretch, for crying out loud. God created summer for a reason, and wants us to stop wasting His daylight and play ball.

The Host of Turner Classic Movies. Robert Osborne might just have the best job on television. He gets to introduce the greatest movies of all time, night after night, and always seems positively thrilled to be doing it. This is a classy gig. Ben Mankiewicz does the daytime/weekend shift, less formally than his cohort, but also with great relish. I have no ambition to replace either of these guys, but I do want to join their gang.

Garth Hudson. Plays every known instrument on the planet, plus a few that he made up on his own. Toured with Dylan during the electric conversion, and was instrumental (literally) in crafting the trademark sound of The Band in the late 60s. Though a low-key and quiet figure throughout his career, his innovative influence on rock has been exponential. Also the only member of The Band not currently dead, diseased, or despised.

Bernie Worrell. Played keyboards for Parliament and Funkadelic in the 70s. Joined the Talking Heads in the 80s. Did the jam-band festival circuit throughout the 90s. Currently collaborating with Les Claypoole, Buckethead, and Brain — virtuoso madmen all. From Herb Alpert to Deee-Lite... Bernie plays all the best gigs.

Darwyn Cooke. In addition to having a very cool name, he writes and draws some of the coolest (and most cinematic) comic books ever published. He has worked on the most-beloved titles of the genre: Batman, JLA, X-Men, Spider-Man — and he draws heavily on classic film noir for his Catwoman and Slam Bradley stories. Currently teaming up with the equally-great Jeph Loeb to write what will probably be a magnum opus within the realm of Batman lore.

Unfortunately, I have no artistic or musical talent to speak of, nor do I have much of a screen persona — so I guess that leaves only one position here for which I'm even remotely qualifed: Commissioner. Guess I'll settle for that, even if only in an armchair capacity this summer...