Can You Describe Your Kids' Jobs?

Recently I was talking to someone who told me that her sons both had new jobs.

"What are they?" I asked.
"I'm not sure." She answered.

I had the same description for the job one of my sons does, and besides "something in/with computers," I haven't a clue as to what my son-in-law does. And it's even more complicated to describe the job of one of my daughters, which seems to constantly morph into something else. And of course, in Israel, there are also those with jobs too sensitive to be talked about...

None of my jobs have been so vague and creative. Working in a store is pretty simple to describe, whether I'm selling shoes, pants, bagels or potatoes. All of which I've sold at various times in my life. And when I was an English Teacher or Gym Teacher or Creative Dance Teacher I didn't have to explain anything. It was all in the title.

Apparently, this just isn't a local problem. The New York Times has an article about all these new job with creative titles:

Your Job Title Is … What?

...I don’t mean to judge — my own job is hardly less opaque. I am the vice president for content at Contently, a company that helps brands expand their content online and publishes commentary on the changing media landscape (including that of The New York Times). Or, as my mom tells her friends, “Sam works for one of those start-up companies that nobody knows what it does.”
Me and everybody else, it seems.
I have had meetings with brand ambassadors (a bit like celebrity endorsers, but with more tattoos). I have coffee with thought leaders (those with “authority” in a given field) and customer happiness managers. (Your guess is as good as mine, but I assume that it used to be called “customer service.”)...

As a blogger, I know that the better my title the more hits my post can get. I wonder if these impressive job titles give better salaries than the old conventional ones. Do you get more money for a job that can't be described?