Nathan Sanderson

At some point in everyone’s life, a dream to be a rock star springs up.

For me, it’s been in the last two years.

As graduation day looms in my very near future, I am trying as hard as possible to avoid getting a real job.

I would rather be a professional athlete, an actor, a supermodel or a rock singer long before having to sit in a cubicle and grind my life away like the software engineers on “Office Space.”

However, my Rock ‘n’ Roll career isn’t taking off, as my unsupportive wife tells me that my voice is more suited to folk ballads than say, Guns ‘n’ Roses (ouch).

So here I sit, loads of talent wasted, listening to Gordon Lightfoot and the ghost of John Denver sing “Sunshine on my Shoulders” as I watch Axl Rose and Mick Jagger go to the Paradise City.

Oh, won’t you please take me home?

I guess music just isn’t my bag o’ chips. If Rock ‘n’ Roll is Spicy Doritos, I must be Original Old Dutch. That’s probably a good thing, however.

All of the loose women, free-flowing alcohol, and partying wouldn’t be good for me at all.

While alcohol often gives men the best of ideas (Winston Churchill was bombed through most of his adult life), it also gives us the worst (i.e. Drunk Exxon Valdez ship’s Captain + Supertanker + Oil Spill=Oops).

Even though a Rock Star’s career is often as short-lived as a Jenny Craig client’s diet at a Casino Buffet, for those few years, nothing could be better. And since things like good looks, musicianship, and talent are usually prerequisites for the job (exceptions: Tom Petty, Marilyn Manson, and the Beastie Boys), I guess that my dream to become a Rock Star probably won’t come true the same way that the one dollar I spend every week on Powerball would be better used on an electric toilet paper dispenser.

Dreaming about something that cannot possibly come true is often a waste of time.

Sooner or later I know that I have to get a real job and stop thinking about a fun, high-paying, low-working entertainment job where people pay hundreds of dollars just to be within ten feet of me when I lip-sync words to music written by someone else.

But, if I am not discovered in the next few years and don’t get a big time contract, I bet you’ll still see me on stage somewhere.

I may be the Roadie, but by God, I’m getting on stage!

Nathan Sanderson will do anything to be famous, up to and including starting a band called Fresh Voyce. Write him at [email protected].