My dream was always to be an academic, but one of the old-fashioned ivory-tower kind: just reading, studying, interpreting, comparing and, eventually, writing ... Work in quiet on an ambitious individual research project, meet with colleagues at seminars to discuss and compare, but otherwise be left free to focus, focus, focus - on that one exotic, versatile detail study on an obscure but fascinating aspect or episode of a nation's history.
But such jobs hardly exist anymore, I believe, (if they ever did, beyond the romanticized literary fiction of it) ...
I also always wanted to be a travel writer - nothing as cheesy an ambition as becoming the new Claudio Magris, no, simply: checking a city's neighbourhoods, museums and libraries, cafes, clubs and restaurants, and writing short, witty, critical review descriptions with just enough (historical) anecdote to suggest the city's overall story ... all research expenses covered by the parent company, of course ;-).
Alternatively, I would love to own my own club someday - I once acquired, in something of a spare time hobby, the certificate you needed to open your own cafe etc - I can just see it. It would be a double-reality place, with neighbouring entry doors and soundproof walls in between ...
On one side, a classic British gentlemen's club, where books line the walls, armchairs are comfortable and tea is served in discrete silence, and you never have to worry about there not being Darjeeling first flush or a separate saucer for the teabag; where the clientele is serious and at peace with itself, snacks are delicate without being snobbish, an expansive newspaper table offers the press from around the continent and where on special days, in a separate room, readings or discussions might take place.
Next door, the club would be the place to be with the latest dance music, new talent-DJs, ready to break through, premiering, acts, dancers and spontaneous events to always have something happening you wouldnt expect - nothing too strange or too decadent - and above all happy people lounging in the evening and bouncing in the early morning, dressed up or out because this is the night, like any night tonight is where it's going to happen for them. But no door policy - just a style, music, design and mood that would self-select the people. (Hah).
All I would need - a group of barmen, bored art students and raver girls for the one space, and professional waiters with the ambition to serve in perfection for the other - and loads and loads and loads of money to make it all happen in the first place ;-)).
If I'd had any musical talent myself I would have liked to be, say, Iva Bittova - discovering and making a style so different, sensitive and playful that those who come upon it can only stay and wonder - and meanwhile living out in the country, playing with my children in the garden and picking up the sounds of their screeches, their toys and of the wind in the forest around to make a new turn with on whatever will be the next album ... <smiles>
When I was a kid and little more than that, I wanted to be, like, a Zen Buddhist monk or something, or at the very least a forester <grins> - or sit like Kerouac on top of a mountain looking out for forestfires ;-).
Well ... that's enough daydreaming for now!
c.i.
Ah, John. What a bummer. We had our car stolen once right from in front of our house. The police did chase them down, but they split when they ran upon a curb, and listen to this; they left a sweet doggie in our car, obviously a family pet. 
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