There are many jobs in this world that I wouldn’t want to do under any circumstances (though obviously someone does them, and we should be grateful for that). Just think, for example, about being a construction worker balanced on a girder outside the 78th floor of a Manhattan skyscraper. Or, to the opposite extreme, part of a team cleaning out a clogged underground sewer. Or the guy flying the refueling plane for Air Force One, trying to make that connection at 30,000 feet. All necessary, honorable jobs. But — call me chicken — they’re not for me at any price, thank you.

But there are also some fabulous opportunities that seem too good to be true . . . and sometimes, in my opinion at least, they probably are. One that comes to mind would be winning a free vacation on the Black Sea coast in Crimea.

I’ve never been to Crimea, though I understand it’s quite beautiful. I have, however, been close (in 1988), at Sochi, an equally beautiful Russian resort just 283 nautical miles across the Black Sea from Yalta on the Crimean coast — and I loved it. Judging from photographs of Crimea such as the one below, it seems like an ideal vacation spot, doesn’t it? But have you been following the news of Russia’s war — excuse me, “Special Military Operation” — against Ukraine, and Ukraine’s attempts to win back its territory on the Crimean Peninsula? Tragically, that whole area is now — actively or potentially — a war zone. So, probably not something I’d recommend as a vacation choice this year, even for free. Pass. Give it to the runner-up, with my blessing.

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Next: Buying the Brady Bunch house. It’s presently on the market for $5.5 Million — in a residential neighborhood that has a median property value listing of $1.9 Million. Are you sure you want to own the costliest property on the block — nearly three times the price of the next most expensive? Of course, this is a very special house; it’s a TV star. And, once HGTV entered the picture in 2018 and, together with the owners, restored the house to replicate exactly what it had looked like on the TV show, then added some 2,000 square feet giving it a total living area of over 5,000 square feet — well, that’s a whole new ballgame, right?

But wait . . . there’s more. There’s that orange-and-turquoise kitchen, complete with actual 1970s appliances. No smart-oven-with-air-fryer there. And the kids’ rooms — the girls’ room boasting lots of Barbie pink, including the floral wallpaper; and the boys’ room — you guessed it — in nautical blue, with paneled walls and bunk beds. And some fireplaces, appliances and fixtures throughout the house that are for show only, and not functional. And it’s all included in the sale, as is.

But even setting all of that aside, there are three things that are telling me to run for the hills. First, I don’t have $5.5 Million; I don’t have the downpayment on $5.5 Million; and I couldn’t make the monthly payments on the mortgage for a $5.5-Million-dollar house. Second, it’s in California and I’m an east-coast person. And finally . . . I really, really hate mid-century modern. So, put that “for sale” sign back up; I’ll pass on this one too.

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Next: Doing this to my body — not that I ever could. Simone Biles is, in a single word, amazing. But even if I had the ability, would I also have the stamina, the perseverance, the sheer grit to accomplish what this young woman has? Not a chance! Most people wouldn’t . . . which is what makes her accomplishments all the more phenomenal. You go, girl . . . you’re a true champion. But if I had three wishes, I’m afraid that being an Olympic athlete would not be one of them. Pass.

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And finally: Being President of the United States. At an annual salary of $400,000 — or even ten times that amount — I’m not masochistic enough, power-hungry enough, or two-faced enough to take on what is arguably the worst job in the world. I know that I would be unable to put on a happy face in the presence of murderous tyrants such as Vladimir Putin, Kim Jong Un, or Mohammed bin Salman; to sit through never-ending state dinners in formal attire with a roomful of people who have no use for me beyond what I might be able to do for them; to watch every word I utter, publicly or privately, because some scumbag (yes, words like that) is going to twist what I say beyond recognition and then use it against me; or to live constantly surrounded by a Secret Service escort, with never a moment’s privacy. Nope — not for all the money in the world. So I hereby announce to the people of the United States and to the world at large, formally and unequivocally, that I am not a candidate for the presidency of the United States in 2024 or any other year. Too bad, really; I think I could have been a good one. But . . . pass.

No, my goals are much more attainable, and rather mundane. I’d just like to make it through my remaining years without breaking any bones, being mugged, or needing major surgery. And I’d really like to get my book — still a work in progress — published one day. I don’t think that’s asking too much.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
8/8/23