Known Knowns

When I was a little kid, I wanted to be Katie Couric. Or, maybe an actress or an orthopedic surgeon. Or a writer. Or a psychologist, lawyer, nurse, or tap dancer. I really wasn’t that different from any other kid.

As I grew up, life took me places and my dreams changed. I took my ACT in high school, did moderately well, and went on to study theatre, as many moderately-well scorers might do, at least until their parents threaten to stop their funding unless they change their major to biology. Still, it wasn’t a terribly atypical teenaged dream, really.

Until today, I thought that my childhood aspirations were special, or at the very least, semi-interesting. That was, until I read an article today about a pair of twins who received perfect scores on their ACTs. It’s rare enough that one person gets a perfect score (according to the article, it’s only one in 4,000) but to have identical twins who receive honestly perfect scores, well, that’s something else. Although ACT scores certainly aren’t everything, it takes more than your average dingbat to do well on them. You don’t get a perfect score out of luck. These boys certainly have the world at their feet, and many exciting decisions await them.

I continued reading the article, assuming they would be attending Yale, Harvard, or some other out-the-butt expensive school. The type that has a Crew and Sailing team, and where famous-but-kind-of-washed-up people like Burt Reynolds make the commencement speech. That type.

The twins suprised me with their apparent desire to attend a small, private school like Creighton. No shame in it, thought lowly-achieving, 75th percentile ACT scoring I. In fact, good for them. I happen to be a huge fan of small private schools, having attended one myself, and quite enjoyed it despite the fact that I wasn’t able to participate in lightweight Crew and despite the fact that the commencement ceremony music was a previously recorded harpsicord.

I continued to read the article, interested to hear about the aspirations of such intellectually-blessed high schoolers. Certainly they didn’t want to be Katie Couric or a tap dancer, but maybe a doctor or a lawyer? That’s the type of thing I expected.

The boys continued to exceed my expectations. While one of the boys; Ross, did express a desire to become a doctor or a psychiatrist (and lord knows we need more psychiatrists), the other twin, Brian, was the one who’s response made me blink at least twice.

Brian, evidently, has always dreamed of becoming…drumroll please…

An actuary.

After my double-blink, I had to look up what an actuary is. Or does. I guess I’m not alone in my perceptions of this career, as there is actually a  website called beanactuary.com with an entire section devoted to “What is an Actuary?” just in case you happened to be googling random phrases and this one popped into your head. (Like “strategery.”) Apparently, an actuary is a “career without boundaries.” And, in case you’re wondering, here’s a little bit of text that I stole directly from beanactuary.com :

The future is full of uncertainty. Some of the events that can happen are undesirable. “Risk” is the possibility that an undesirable event will occur. Actuaries are experts in:

• evaluating the likelihood of future events,
• designing creative ways to reduce the likelihood of undesirable events,
• decreasing the impact of undesirable events that do occur.

And just so we’re clear, I did not add those bullet points for effect. But it is reassuring that the word “risk” is defined for you, isn’t it?

I would just like to say that if there is a real, live actuary reading this post, or if one of these magnificently scoring twins has stumbled upon this blog, I certainly mean your profession absolutely no harm. It’s just that as a writer, I am constantly on the lookout for things that amaze me. I have never met an 18-year-old who wants to be an actuary.  Professional football player? Yes. Actuary? Huh.

As much as I jest, after Brian receives his B.S.A (Bachelor of Science in Actuariness) he is undoubtedly going to be making a crapload more money than I will ever hope to make wiping the butts of the patients in my care.  My own high school aspiration as a theatre technician involved pointing a high-powered lightbulb at someone’s face. Brian is light years ahead of me. No, I can definitely see how actuariosity would be a much cushier, cleaner, and financially more stable career. I wish Brian much luck in his quest for actuariness, and I invite him to flick a booger onto the windshield of my 1992 Toyota Corolla with the screaming alternator belt, when he flies past me in his bright red, leather interiored Ferrari, with the sexy-voiced GPS, and which will, of course, have not a speck of dog hair on it because the servants take care of the pets, no doubt.

I still don’t really know what an actuary does, but I also just want to say that if it has anything to do with calculating the rate on my life insurance policy, then I take back everything I said and I’m thrilled and completely unsurprised that someone with your brains and talent is choosing a career of this magnitude. Best of luck to you, Brian, and may your life be full of risk-free riches. I have no doubt that actuaries have really bitchin’ office parties.