One of my friends is a piano tuner. Her dream, or at least her parents’ dream, was to be a concert pianist. Turns out she liked messing with the mechanisms more than she liked memorizing songs. It also turns out that “decent piano tuner” pays a lot more than “failed concert pianist,” which helped convince her parents as well.
In the same way, I don’t think there’s any shame in being a race car driver’s mechanic. Racing is a team effort. Everyone on that team has to contribute as best they can. From the crew chief who remembers things like “what weekend the race is on,” to the intern who puts air in the tires of the car-hauling trailer, they can all share in a victory.
Thing is, the media likes a hero. It’s hard to do a story about a whole bunch of people doing their job properly. Not much drama in it. They think we want to see a radical, a loner, a real protagonist. Even the TV news likes to ensure the happenings of the world are conveyed to you entirely by a cabal of all-knowing, handsome talking heads. More heroes, selling you the story of other heroes.
Those people don’t really exist, and when they do, they’re kind of unpleasant because they won’t help you with your shit. Race cars need mechanics; concert pianists need tuners; everyone needs somebody.
That’s why I’ve decided to more flagrantly violate the traffic laws. It’s only by stretching these laws to their maximum that the lawmakers will truly appreciate the hard work of the dedicated civil servants who anticipated things like not letting me pull my Volare with a bunch of sled dogs. And if I do manage to find something new, they will all get a great opportunity to come together as a team and ban it. No need to thank me; just doing my part.