Excerpt from the book, "Sayonara, Gangsters".
I'm sure it also feels odd to be told that "I teach poetry at a poetry school."
"You don't say?" people moan, or "Isn't that something!" and then they just stand there, grinning at me, their minds racing as if they're trying to work through the most difficult puzzle in the world.
Lost in their thoughts, they begin to droop.
And so I send out the lifeboat.
"Listen, it's just another job.
I had no choice you see, I needed a job.
Teaching poetry is no different from typing 60 words a minute or conveying 100 volts of electrical current into the head of a pig and sending if off to heaven, and I don't think I need to feel ashamed of what I do."
"Of course not! It's a great job, really, that teaching poetry stuff! I mean, it's poetry you're talking about, right? Wow, that's so incredible!"
Being employed in a non-traditional industry always makes the "what do you do?" question interesting. My answer to "what do you do?" elicits ~65% vaccous stares, 25% genuine interest, and 10% of the askers are more interested in how I get paid, rather than what I actually do. If I'm talking to someone that I know won't be interested I'll ocassionally make up a profession for the fun of it.
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