While I was home for Christmas, my mom asked me what my dream job would be. While obviously the goal is to become a director somewhere, I didn’t have a precise answer for here, just an idea.
However, after further meditation, my dream came to me with a crescendo.
I guess my dream job all stems from the dog days of summer at Anaheim Stadium, back when “Wally World” was alive and well.
In the outfield seats, with my parents and all the drunks in seats around us, I’d lead the group in cheers and chants with my “No. 1 foam finger.”
My dream job is to be an organist at a professional stadium, preferably at an NHL venue.
Honestly, how could you not smile, as a fan or the organist, and not have a good time listening and playing this stuff at a hockey game?
Mr. Dunn (my band teacher in high school), wherever you are, you’re right. I shouldn’t have quit band.
That being said, I’m already on one helluva ride in media relations. Maybe one day I’ll be able to shadow Frank Pellico and write a story about it.
In the mean time, if you’re ever at a sporting event with me and you want to know where my ears and my head are at, well…
Side note, one of the coolest organs out there… The Belgian organ at Ralph Engelstad Arena, pictured at the top of the page. Of course, it’s automated and does not require an organist. Sigh.