Advice King: Which Midlife Hobby Should I Pick Up?

In 2014, comedian, musician, podcaster and Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton shares his hard-won wisdom with whoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Bluesky and Instagram  (@thecroftonshow), and check out his The Advice King Anthology and Cold Brew Got Me Like podcast. To submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread@gmail.com.

Dear Advice King, 

Which midlife hobby should I choose? Birding, carpentry or tennis? (Trying to be intentionally light.) I guess I could also say, “Which hobby should I do to distract from the rise of fascism and the destruction of the environment?”

—Nicholas in NYC

Hmmm. With all the environmental destruction, there aren’t going to be any more birds — so that’s out. I mean, there might be a few birds left, but you’ll have to chase them for long distances before you’re able to settle down and “watch” them. With all the added running, bird watching will be more of a young man’s game. Sigh. 

What was the question? 

Tennis?! People still play that? I was the world’s worst tennis player when I was a kid. But I had such expensive equipment. I bullied my parents into buying it for me. I had Wimbledon-level equipment. Then I would go on the court and get TROUNCED. I’m not sure how the expensive gear was supposed to help. I think I was going for “That guy has such expensive equipment he has to be good. He’s probably just having a bad day.” I must have looked insane. 

What was the question?

Speaking of looking insane, one time when I was an altar boy — yep, you read that correctly — the other altar boy and I were supposed to coordinate (give each other a silent signal, like a head nod, or a look, because we were on different sides of the altar, on either side of the priest) and then walk around to the front of the altar and up the main aisle of the church to retrieve the ceremonial bread and wine. This was high-stakes stuff for a seventh-grader, because it happened in the middle of the ceremony and there were about 200 people there.

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So this one time, I thought the other altar boy had given me the signal, but he hadn’t, and I ended up walking around to the front of the altar ALONE. So I’m standing there, and the whole church knows I made a mistake — no big deal, right? Just go back and sit down, right? Go back, sit down, and wait for the right time, right? Nope. I dramatically, repeatedly, gripped my head, and wildly grimaced so people would think I was having a BRAIN PROBLEM, instead of thinking I made a mistake. And THEN I  walked back to my seat. A girl from my grade named Delphine Madison came up to me after the mass and asked me what happened, and if I was all right. I told her that no matter what it looked like, I didn’t make a mistake — MY BRAIN WENT CRAZY. Anyway, we’re married now! No we’re not.  

I just read this column back to myself and got the sinking feeling that my childhood is not relatable — it’s just sad as hell! 

The answer is carpentry, Nicholas. Build a house for you and all your friends to live in, Habitat for Humanity style. No politician is gonna save us. We’re going to have to save ourselves.