Comedian, musician, host of Chris Crofton's Advice King Podcast and former Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton will share his hard-won wisdom with whosoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Facebook and Twitter, and to submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread[at]gmail[dot]com or editor[at]nashvillescene[dot]com.
Dear Advice King,
I graduated from college with a degree in English literature. I'm a little concerned about finding a job that utilizes my skill set, in addition to being able to pay off my extensive student loans. How do you think I should approach my future? Thanks!
—Adam in New London, Conn.
Oh no! English Lit?! More like English UNlit! (Modern people call things they like “lit.” They also say “BRB” a lot — it means “be right back.”) You better have a rich uncle. Nobody reads anymore. They use fidget spinners. Actually, I don’t think they do that either — too much work!
I majored in art history. I chose art history because it suited my hangovers — they had to turn out the lights to show the slides. It worked out great though, because now I’m a highly paid museum curator. HAHAHAHAHAHAAA.
I’m a rodeo clown.
A RODEO CLOWN WHO KNOWS ABOUT THE FAUVES! *weeps*
I just Googled “What can you do with an English literature degree?” You’re in deep shit, Adam. One of the jobs they listed was “event planner.” Not that there’s anything wrong with being an event planner — but it seems to me you could also be an event planner without having a degree in English literature. In fact, if you go into an interview for an event planner position and start babbling about Rudyard Kipling, I’d say you are considerably LESS likely to get the job.
Here’s a play:
English Literature Event Planner, an Advice King play
Interior, banquet facility. Servers are preparing a buffet. A man wearing a tweed jacket sits smoking a pipe in an old leather chair reading The Count of Monte Cristo. A server approaches.
SERVER: Hey boss, we got the chafing dishes set up, and the plates are stacked, but ... where are the tongs at?
The man in the tweed jacket puts down the book and rises, pipe in mouth, enraged.
ENGLISH LITERATURE EVENT PLANNER: STOP ENDING SENTENCES IN PREPOSITIONS. I am at my wits' end.
SERVER: OK, I won’t. But do you know where the tongs are at?
ENGLISH LITERATURE EVENT PLANNER shrugs, takes off his pants and does The Worm
I’m kind of kidding around, Adam. “Event planner” was on the list, but it was toward the bottom. The most popular job for English literature majors is “teacher.”
The good news is that teaching is one of the two professions where you can wear a tweed jacket unironically (indie rock is the other, er, profession). The bad news is you have to try to get phone addicts who are near tripping on pharmaceutical-grade marijuana — er, students — interested in BOOKS.
Go to graduate school for welding.