I think we all accept, as we get older that our initial dreams of how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives are a little unrealistic. I mean when you’re a kid and someone asks you what you want to be when you grow up; there are a couple of stock answers that as we get older become non-options. Whether this is due to a change of heart (zoo keeper gets less attractive after you read Everything Poops… A LOT), a lack of ability (who knew you needed to be a goddamn rocket scientist to fly the space shuttle?) or it just turns out that it was never a real job in the first place (New York Mets President of Fan Relations).