I WANT TO BE A WAITER!

I was thinking the other day about when I was a kid. Every little kid thinks about what they want to be when they grow up. In fact, sometimes your second grade teacher makes you write an essay about "what I want to be when I grow up."

Now, I have done alot of different things to make a living in my life, and I've got no regrets about any of them. But it just hit me like a wheelbarrow full of concrete the other day that I have never held the occupations that I wrote down in that second grade paper.

I wrote that I wanted to be either an Astronaut, a Fireman, or a Waiter. I ain't ever been any one of those things! Heck, here I am almost 50 years old, and haven't realized my childhood dreams.

"Astronaut" was my first choice. The space race was hot in the mid-60s. I think probably most of the boys in my class picked "Astronaut." But by the time that I was getting out of high school, and looking for a career path it looked like we had "been there and done that." We had been to the moon about a dozen times, and were just gonna fly around the earth on the shuttle. Plus, you pretty well had to be good in science and math...not my strongest subjects.

"Fireman" was my second choice. Firemen are admired from generation to generation. That occupation doesn't come and go like others do. Everybody loves and respects firemen. But I got my hair singed once by a bonfire and I had discovered that there was no way that my "chicken" self was gonna run into a burning building...heck no!

"Waiter" was #3. But there was alot of stuff going on in my life, and I never did pursue it. I love waiters, and always have. When I was a little kid I thought that would be the coolest thing!

One night my Granddaddy took all of my family to Smith's Cross Lake Inn over in Shreveport to celebrate my birthday. Our waiter was Oray Timms. He was an old bald black man in a fancy white coat and jet black pants. He had a deep voice, and a smile that could light up a funeral!

I didn't know until I was older that Oray had worked there for about a million years, and had gotten to be a rich man waiting tables. All the rich folks in Shreveport went to Smith's and specified Oray as their waiter. He had built friendships with some of the richest, most powerful folks in the area...and took advantage of it.

It was my birthday, and after dinner here comes Mr. Oray Timms with a little birthday cake with a candle on top singing with his powerful voice "Appy Birffaday to You." I know why folks loved him so much. I never felt more special at a restaurant for sure.

All you gotta do is visit with people, talk to kids nice, smile, bring their food, fill up the iced tea, and bring them the bill. Then your Daddy, or Granddaddy leaves them "green money" on the table...none of that jingling junk...the green stuff!

I'm too old to be an astronaut now. I'm too "chicken" to be a fireman. But Waiter might just fill the bill. I know how to talk to folks, carry food plates, visit with children, fill up water glasses and on and on.

I want to be a Waiter! My Momma always said that I could accomplish anything that I could dream. I think I'd be a danged good one...