Opinion

Chasing the dream job

My dream job became available recently. A job I have wanted since the fourth grade.

I could see the world, deliver happiness to thousands and have an amazing story to tell. There would be so many people to meet and stories to listen to and things to see. All if I could only have my dream job of driving the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

Now listen- before you feel like I’ve really lost it just hear me out. Is there anything more American than driving around in a giant hot dog? The answer is no. Is there a cooler story than “I have a friend who drives a giant hot dog for a living?” The answer is no. Is there anything wrong with wanting to see the world via the inside of a giant hot dog while delivering happiness on a bun to thousands? The answer still is no.

According to their website, the first mobile debuted in 1936 and at any given time there are six of these things traveling around the U.S. I also found out the official job title for the people who ride along is “hot-dogger” and the official driver job is “wienermobile navigator.” Sign me up Mr. Mayer.

Unfortunately, my actual dog would not be able to go along due to her wanting to eat all of the merchandise, so I’m staying right where I’m at, but it got me thinking about what I would be if I weren’t a reporter.

Usually I say I would be a furniture salesperson because two of my favorite things are lounging around and talking. Now I know salespeople do way more than that. They work very hard and have an incredibly good eye for style, design and comfort. I’m just saying that I would be a different kind of salesperson.

I, as a professional lounger, would be able to offer knowledge about which couch is perfect for lying on for hours on end on a snow day while you watch reruns of “I Love Lucy”; about the perfect table for dominating your sisters at Monopoly; about the perfect mattress for sleeping through your alarm.

If that didn’t work out because word got out I did more lounging than selling, I would move on to my other dream job of being a bank teller. Not because I want to do anything with money, but because I want access to those tube things where you can shoot stuff across the building via plastic canisters.

Ever since I discovered you could send suckers in those when I was 4 I knew they were something special. Now that I know you can send dog treats in them too, the possibilities are endless, you guys.

If I got fired for sending too much stuff that wasn’t money, I guess I would move onto being a dancing corn for the Peoria Chiefs baseball team Dozer Field in my hometown of Peoria, Ill.

Now, I am not afraid to admit that I am so Midwestern my dream job is being an ear of corn. Who wouldn’t want to put on that costume and run around the outfield every time the Chiefs hit a home run? Put me in, coach!

This one I have actually looked into and it turns out it’s just a fun thing they have their summer interns do, but I’m so there. I also think this would be a fabulous thing for my mom and me to do together. Nothing says family bonding like wearing a corn costume and running around with your mom.

However, this of course would not work out because it is only a summer job and if I am left with this much free time who even knows what I would come up with. That could be dangerous.

Instead, I’ll just keep chasing dreams here in southeast Iowa. Maybe I don’t get to see the world from the inside of a hot dog or run around in a corn costume, but I have gotten to see how a community welcomes thousands of people on bicycles into their small town, experience how they pull together after their university nearly closes and tell stories one can only find hidden away in southeast Iowa. Being a reporter is definitely not being a wienermobile navigator, but it sure is my dream job.