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February 2009 
I'm really a rocket scientist.....
Posted on Jun 12th, 2008
by 
Kaius Maximus
Kaius Maximus
I learned something new this year......
that people mostly are NOT what they do.
We always ask that question, you know? The conversation goes, Hi, my name is _______, nice to meet you. What do you do?
And God forbid you answer with something other than how you make money. Because no one will take you seriously.
I discovered sometime last year, that practically everyone in the service industry, which means the people you meet every day who bag your groceries, take your order, and wash your car, really do something else they feel far more passionately about.
Only no one cares because they don't make money at it. Tragic!
Today, I pulled up at Sony Pictures where I teach yoga on Thursdays, and they have a new security guard at the gate, who doesn't know me yet.
You gotta understand here, that F., who was the old security guard, and I, had this fabulous rapport, wherein we would tease each other and horse around, to the point he let me park in Judd Apatow's spot when the Man wasn't at work. Um, ya. I felt like such a rockstar. And I love that guard. He always makes me smile, and feel like somebody special.
Anyway, the new security guard, whose name is P., and I have been slow to develop a rapport. Probably because each week I come at the same time and he still doesn't remember me, which drives me nuts, because I have a big fat healthy ego, thank you, and I like to be remembered, especially by NAME.
Anyway, today he writes my hall pass and says, "You know, I'm really a rocket scientist."
To which I reply, "Uh huh, and I'm Henry Kissinger in tight pants."
But he says, "No really. I'm an out of work physicist. Nasa had layoffs. I haven't got my guard card yet. But at least I have a job." Then he gave me his URL.
My eyebrows shot up. Does Sony Pictures know they have a Nasa scientist working their fucking guard station? Christ. The man has an IQ that makes the rest of us look like lab rats. I was pretty impressed.
But then, his story belongs to each of us in some way, doesn't it?
My friend Sasha runs a small print shop in Venice, and he has a PhD from Yale in finance, but due to a lawsuit and one well-written non-compete agreement, he cannot work in his field. But he really wants to open a cafe.
And most of the waiters down on Main St. are really working on their degrees at UCLA.
My stepfather is an author, but sells real estate.
And I got a taste of the medicine a few nights ago when I was introduced around a table at a fine restaurant as a yoga teacher, when I think of myself as a writer, by someone who even knows about my book.
But hey. We live in a country where you are what you do, and what you do is defined by what you earn.
I think this must be a cultural thing.
Because in Greece, I remember the policemen. You see, they are not policemen at all, but men in costumes, who hang out on the street corners much like extras on a movie set, waiting to be called into a shot. They gamble; they smoke; they flirt with the women. But the second a crime happens, then suddenly they are all policemen, and go into action.
But here in America, you are your job. You are not you. And you are not your dreams. And you are not what you do for fun, or in your freetime, or as a side-pursuit. You are only what you are successful at. And what you are successful at is defined by one thing: where you get your paycheck. And then, that isn't necessarily success.
This used to only be true for men. You see, women get out of the deal with beauty. If you are smokin' hot, and sexy, and pretty, you could be a meatpacker, and still be touted and acclaimed. Ah, but if you are a man..... you better have the career thing happening, because it will affect your odds of sexual reproduction.
But now as women, we have both pressures. Be pretty and successful. Be beautiful and be unbeatable. I think it's an interesting time socially.
Personally, I now pay much more attention to a person's dreams --the thing they are really reaching for, than to what they do to pay the bills. I like to ask the people who make my coffee what they REALLY do, and see what kind of answers I get. Because it's fascinating to discover layers of truth.
But, to be fair, I say that being completely hypocritical, because I think I want to live in this world where dreams are as important as reality, but if I met a really super hot janitor, who told me, Ya, I just do this to pay the bills because what I really want is to be a record producer, I'd be like:
Um, don't call me, I'll call you......... ok?
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