Whatever I Can Get Away With...

Why? What do you do?

“So…what do you do?”

I call it ‘the question’. It’s usually the first thing I’m asked after I tell someone my name and have already forgotten theirs. It’s an interesting question. An odd question. How should I answer? What do they really want to know? And just for fun, what’s the most inappropriate yet least offensive answer I can give? Moreover, does the person asking actually want to hear the real answer?

So…what do I do? Play guitar, sing, sleep at odd times of day, fantasize about blacksmithing and Norway, create random Substack articles, swing a kettlebell, waste far too many hours watching old British comedy, think of light-hearted (mostly) ways to torture my family, quest for the world’s funniest dad joke, write fiction? Oh, and I suppose I should mention something about how I participate in the economy, juggling ways to keep me and mine housed and fed.

Perhaps the most important question I should answer is ‘what’s my damage’? Why make such a big deal out of such a simple query? On that, I believe I have an answer. To be fair, I do have a slight tendency to over complicate things. But this is different. Something about the question just pushes one of my buttons. That particular button that sets off my injudicious and occasionally infantile response to societal norms. Like when the clerk at the supermarket tells me that I saved $17.84 by buying their products when I actually spent $90.66. Or when I’m at the airport walking through unnecessary and expensive security devices that don’t actually protect anything except jobs for corporate lobbyists. Or when I’m asked to dress up…for anything. In my mind, the question demands a more complete and, perhaps, childish response than just ‘I’m an insurance executive’(too soon?). I guess I just don’t see the point in wading into the shallow end of superficiality.

It would be the acme of naivete - not to mention, disingenuous - to claim I don’t understand what folks are getting at when they ask the question. Our entire lives have been monetized and financialized. We’re data points on a company spreadsheet, walking dollar signs, statistics. To that end, so much of our identity is wrapped up in our job, our career, how we make money. Consciously or otherwise, even well-meaning folks who ask the question are sizing us up. They might as well just ask “what are you worth”?

So, why are we so focused on career and income? Probably because we’ve been conditioned to. Our public lives aren’t about art, or creativity, or social service. They’re tied up in what we’ve always been told matters; first through catalogs and commercials, then by reality tv, reels, and endless TikTok videos: consumption. Our ability to purchase. That’s how our lives are valued. Perhaps a simpler question would be:

How much stuff can you buy?

Again, I don’t think this is what most people are consciously focused on. However, at a surface level, a typical answer to the question can tell them quite a bit about a new acquaintance, financially speaking - where they live, what they drive, perhaps where their kids go to school. That’s nice, I suppose. But it doesn’t say much about who a person is; their hopes, their ideals, who or what they love. For example, suppose we gave a short, cookie-cutter response like one of these below:

• I’m a lawyer

• I’m a doctor

• I’m a high frequency Pokemon Card day trader

• I’m currently an independent contractor in the freelance automotive procurement industry specializing in catalytic converters

These are all reasonable answers. There’s nothing inherently wrong about telling someone you’re #47 on a list of the 50 highest rated weapons dealers servicing the the eastern Balkans and northern Micronesia. But does that tell us anything about your unbridled joy of pickleball or your collection of designer fountain pens? Not at all. So much of who you are just gets lost.

Martin Blank - photo via The Guardian

I don’t think necessarily that what a person does for a living reflects who he is - Martin Blank, Gross Pointe Blank

Lugubriously (found my thesaurus), these answers just don’t capture the ‘who’ we are and the ‘what’ we are being during the majority of our lives. The question ends up only partially answered with - let’s be honest - the least interesting part of the story. Haven’t we had enough of conforming to financial statements and credit scores? Forgive me if I say sticking to the same staid responses feels like mindless and reductive social convention.

Years ago, I started responding to the question by telling new people my whole story in a single sentence. It’s the most complete and honest answer I can offer:

What do I do? Whatever I can get away with.

And the feedback I’ve received isn’t just positive, but inquisitive as well.

Wow…that sounds interesting.

Like what? Tell me more!

You’re a real asshole, aren’t ya?

Okay, so it’s not always positive. In general, though, folks eventually come around. The real beauty of this response is that it’s more than just an introduction. It’s more than an icebreaker. It’s an invitation to come along for a short, friendly adventure. An opportunity to get a little closer to each other as people and not just rats in the same endless race. It’s about connection. Sure, telling everyone you’re a secret agent is cool…well, okay, you could probably just talk about that. But if you’re an accountant or shipping supervisor or podiatrist, there might just be other, more fascinating aspects of you that people would be interested to know. And it makes reciprocation relaxed and easy. In a world where billion dollar corporations are commodifying so much our existence, isn’t it nice to find out that Jeff from Fresno is a huge fan of K-Pop and bowled a 265 last Spring during league play?

To be clear, this isn’t just my answer to the question. This is yours, mine, and everyone’s. If you pardon the preposition, we’re all doing whatever we can get away with. And doesn’t it sound a little exciting and just the least bit dangerous?

I’m not much of a country fan, but there was a time when that genre didn’t completely suck out loud. In 1974, the late John Denver wrote a real knee-slapper called Thank God I’m a Country Boy. The subject of the song is a fiddle player. He loves it. It’s what he’d prefer to be doing all day long. Whenever I think about that song, there’s one line that always comes to mind:

Fiddle when I can and work when I should…

Double-click and give it a listen. It’s surprisingly good. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

Now this is a prime example of someone doing whatever they can get away with. He’s a farmer. The song makes that clear enough. But what’s really important to him is living the country life and playing his fiddle. We all work when we think we should (mostly). And we certainly have other responsibilities to fulfill. After that, though, we do whatever we want. Or at least we do what we can afford to do with the time, effort, and money available.

So, what do you do? How do you show off what’s important to you? What do you cherish, how do you love, with whom do you share your adventures? What do you get away with?

The more we share what’s real in life, the better we connect. The better we connect, the stronger the communities we create. And damn but don’t we need a little more of that right now? So give it a try. See what kind of response you get. Besides, it’s gotta be more fun than just saying “I manage Wal-Mart in Pensacola.”

Cover photo - The Paris Review