Strange Title for an Awesome Development
It’s a funny thing, Life. You start out wanting a Ferrari, and by your midlife crisis all you want is a freaking minivan.
- More space.
- Someone PLEASE give me more space.
- That’s all I want.
- Can you please stop bumping up against me?
- For the love of God, I need BREATHING ROOM!!!
Yeah, those are the jumbled thoughts tumbling around in the ol’ noodle.
Gone are the days where I used to have posters up on my wall of Ferraris… Lamborghini’s… Porsche’s. Oh – no – not because I’m getting older…the wife won’t let me have them up anymore. She says they don’t go with our wall-mounted potpourri sconces. Whatever.
The sad truth is that said car posters now have too many thumbtack pokes in each corner, and no one wants swiss cheese on their walls.
But in even more painful reality, it was time to grow up.
Oh the Provisions
When you’re doing well in voiceovers – or any enterprise, for that matter – you begin to be able to afford things. I can now afford the higher-priced Lobster Top Ramen, for example, not just the Brisket flavor. (Don't judge me.) Sure, there are luxuries and all of that too: there have been some awesome spends I’ve doled out as a result of voiceover cash going into my pocket, and subsequently into my wife’s purse, and subsequently onto my child’s feet. And no longer in my pocket. Does he really need shoes? Come on.
There have been investments right back into the business, sure – that’s the prudent and wise thing to do. That’s what grown-ups do who don’t have Ferrari posters on their wall. But there have been some nice expenditures as well. Like the small vacation we took to Chelan. Like the extra Christmas presents last year. Like going to eat more and taking a load off, and what have you. When voiceovers pay the bills, it’s a good thing. And I’m grateful.
But what I’m really grateful for is one upcoming purchase that is on our horizon, and one that will instantly propel me into a brand new – and quite unexpected – column: that of the legendary soccer mom.
Yo-ho-yo-ho, a soccer-mom’s life for me
Many of you know that for several years, as part of my multimedia production company, I’ve shot and produced many weddings. We’ll have shot and produced 454 of them by the time I’m (almost, thank God!) done. And that annoying-I-mean-wonderful business opportunity is receding into the past as far as a necessity for our budget, because I just don’t need it anymore. Voiceovers have taken their place.
But speaking of place-taking, my son is now so big that I can’t take all of my Apple gear with us on the road anymore. It won’t go where he is, because, well, HE'S there. And my wife just had to go and get pregnant again and give birth to a beautiful second baby boy, so the Apple gear can’t go there, because, well, HE’S there. And our wonderful dog Macy can’t go on road trips in the car anymore – we learned that smelly lesson the hard way, gulp – because WE'RE ALL IN THERE.
Where are you going with all of this, Josh? You better get somewhere fast.
Oh I will get there. Just not faster than 60mph anymore, because....yeah:
Yep. Yours truly is going to be a Soccer Mom soon. Yes, yes, I too thought I was going to end up like a tardigrade, one of the most indestructible animals on earth, but nay - ‘twas not to be. I’m soft as a custard roll with a creamy center, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. Stick a fork in me, because I’m done. I'm going to eventually have to sell my beautiful Nissan Rogue and "upgrade" to a cargo ship with wheels and window wipers, because our family has grown to "fun sized."
Each time we go out as a family and get groceries for goodness’ sake, we feel like Sardines. We have my Apple gear (it still barely fits), the tire jack (in case), Kid #1 (can’t leave him behind, he’s too young to babysit Kid #2), and Kid #2 (can’t leave him behind or some nice men will come handcuff us), the knapsack, the baby carrier, the baby stroller, the diaper bag, the backup diaper bag, the spare blanket, the first aid kit, and my rolled up Ferrari posters.
Why are the rolled-up Ferrari posters in the car, you ask? Oh: there’s no more storage at home; we need a bigger house too. Know anyone who’s selling?
I feel like that Angry Bird who, once flung, inflates to thirty times his size and knocks over buildings in his wake. We’re all growing out of our skin here.
I used to be cool.
Did I get into this business because I knew that one day I’d need a minivan? No. I got into it because I thought that one day I could afford a Ferrari. You need to go back to the beginning of the blog and start paying attention. It’s been about luxury. Classiness. Superb style. Not Buster-bar sticks and gum wrappers wedged down so far into the crevices of the minivan carpet that it would take a little spackle-stick and some napalm to get them out.
The hard truth: Because of voiceover income, we'll be buying a minivan.
I got into voiceovers because they’re cool. And let's face it:
Now that I’ve stirred up the collective wrath of soccer moms everywhere, I’ll offer a half-hearted apology. After all, I’ll be filling out my Soccer Mom Application (SMA) soon, and sending that in, and I expect immediate and enthusiastic approval of my status as I drive off with a van full of one dog, the spare blanket that the dog is laying on, some Apple equipment, two kids, one wife, one knapsack, the stroller, the rolled-up posters, the baby carrier, the tire jack, the diaper bag, the backup diaper bag, and all of our groceries.
Hop on board! It’s the Soccer Mom Minivan express! Hey look - I found sardines! Anyone want a Buster Bar with them?
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Seattle Voice Actor & Voiceover Talent for hire
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