recession-proof employment.

They say the economy’s bad. Real bad. Everyone’s worried about job security. To do my little bit to ease the suffering, I have accumulated a list of recession-proof jobs worth scouting out. They are as follows:

1: Professional basketball player

Think about all the starving people in the world. What do they all have in common? They’re short and they can’t shoot. Have you ever seen a seven foot four inch western European guy with a sweet baby hook begging for nickels? Me neither.

2: Teacher

The way I figure it, whenever a recession sets in, the quality of teaching in public schools drops precipitously. Why? Job security. Teachers watch each other’s backs. By advancing to the next grade students who have learned little or nothing, teachers ensure the need for subsequent teachers to teach the idiot kids the basics they’ve yet to apprehend. It’s a system that spans all the way up to college. Don’t believe me? Why do you think you learn about mitosis in seventh grade, ninth grade, eleventh grade and in college? Exactly. It’s a big inter-teacher conspiracy.

3. Body guard

If ever there is a time that my desire to attack celebrities is in full bloom, it's during a recession. Why should no-talent, brainless hacks like Paris Hilton get all the money while everyday stiffs like myself have to work through four years of college just to prove possessive of the capability to work away the remainder of life? It’s downright unfair. However, I’m pretty sure tackling an over-paid incompetent like Nicholas Cage into a lamppost would really help me blow off some steam. Then to further even the score, I’d steal his Rolex and hock it in order to buy bread for my children. So what does that make me and the host of people equally upset regarding celebrity excess? Bodyguard job security. Think about it. Plus, I think the sunglasses are standard issue.

4. Dictator

Sure, it’s a tough gig to wrangle, but once you do, you’re set. And don’t you worry about recession-time layoffs. Your subjects will be so used to poverty that they won’t even notice the stock market plummeting. Heck, if you play your propaganda cards right, they’ll never even have heard about private ownership, much less the stock market. Plus you control the food and water supply. Just make sure they are too malnourished to ever organize a revolution. Seriously, it’s a lot of legwork, but after a few years, really, you’re golden.

5. Democratic Presidential Nominee

This one’s no mystery. When the economy is in the dumps, Americans stampede, with palms extended and pockets outturned, to democrats. If you find yourself as Democratic presidential nominee, don’t worry about utterly breaking the back of the capitalist system that has served as the catalyst for American ingenuity and progression for hundreds of years. Seriously, just promise money to everyone and they’ll love you. They'll elect you to whatever position you want. You’ll be like a kid who brings poison cup cakes into class to celebrate his birthday. Almost never do people connect the violent diarrhea hours later to the cup cakes that tasted so good just before afternoon recess. They just remember that you did them a solid by ponying up thickly iced cup cakes. You’re home free.

These are just a few of many possible jobs with which to thrive in a down economy. But don’t limit yourself. Be creative. Maybe you could start a money-counterfeiting ring. Or perhaps you should consider starting a casino. Don’t overlook the timeless tactic of kidnapping/ransom. I hear they have some very realistic-looking ransom note fonts these days. Think of all the time you’ll save now that you don’t have to hunt through magazines looking for an appropriately sized and sinister-enough-looking letter ‘J.’ Throw those scissors in the waste bin. Sore cutting wrists and paper cuts are a thing of the past. Everything is streamlined these days. Really, the sky is the limit.

don't let me down.

I hope that someday I have occasion to be admitted to the hospital. I don’t want anything life threatening, but whatever malady does beset me, it must be serious enough that the doctor has to come out into the waiting room and update Angela regarding my status. I’m thinking like a high ankle sprain. Or some sort of table saw-induced finger loss. Even a burst appendix would be fine as long as they caught it before my own lethal juices began poisoning me. It all sounds like good fun.

But why, you ask, would I wish injury upon myself? Simple. Months ago I made Angela promise that if this situation every arose, she would look the doctor square in the eyes and insist that he “pull the plug.” He’d get all flustered and confused because I wouldn’t even be plugged into anything. Not thirty seconds previous he watched me leaf through the pages of the Home and Garden magazine I found on the bedside table in my hospital room. He’d try to explain to Angela that her husband is plenty able to breathe and eat and sustain life on his own, but, in accordance with our agreement, Angela would interrupt. She'd rehearse that her and I had discussed the issue and I had made my wishes abundantly clear. “He wouldn’t want to continue living like this,” Angela would sputter. “Pull the plug, doctor.”

The doctor would protest. Or sit in silent shock. I don’t care which. I just want to see his face when he returns to the side of my hospital bed.

My only fear is that Angela will break her promise. Instead of accomplishing the prank we’d together conceived, she might act all worried and junk. She might even feel bad messing with an ER doctor on hour twenty-two of his twenty-four hour shift. But she better do it. She promised. And if she doesn’t fulfill her promise, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to trust her ever again.