Before getting to football, today I am thinking about what it all means. No, I am not talking about Fort Hood Texas or the shooting in Orlando Florida. I will never make sense of that, and will wait and see like everybody else.
I certainly don’t mean health care because today’s vote means nothing. The President is speaking, as if that will result in real news.
Between all of this and over 10% unemployment, today is a day for escapism. Tonight until 4am there is a group called “Republican Party Animals.” Heaven help us all.
Until then, I am enjoying solace, and I am thinking about what it all means, in my own little way.
I am thinking about power and pressure.
I had the extremely good fortune awhile back of spending time with a brunette whose brains were matched only by a set of (redacted) and (redacted) that I eventually got to play with.
(Hence the words “extremely good fortune.”)
She was over 40, but was no cougar. If anything, it took a decent amount of persuading on my part. Yet as I was trying to explain to her through my actions that she needed to remove her clothing, she made some comments that led to a deep conversation.
Yes, when the conversation was over, I finally got to play body bongo drums with her (redacted). Yet while that memory will stay with me for some time, the conversation will stay with me much longer.
(Or at least almost as long.)
She remarked that I lived in a very nice place. She lamented that so many people like me got to live in nice places while so many like her struggled.
While I have been accused (justifiably so) of letting anything a hot woman says go unchallenged, on this night substance would trump style. Her comment bothered me, and it needed to be challenged.
Yes, I live in the wealthiest nation on Earth, America. I live in one of the most glamorous cities, Los Angeles. It has poor parts, but I live in the nice area of LA. The very street I live on is the dividing line that everybody asks about. When a girl wants to know a guy, they ask if I live North or South of this street. I tell them I live on it.
They react with pleasant surprise, making me reiterate that, yes, I live right on the street that divides the city. I am three blocks from Beverly Hills, but Beverly Hills is rich people that want to be seen. Three blocks away means my postal address says Los Angeles. This is for the wealthy people that nobody knows.
I live in a high rise condo building. The penthouse people have a view of the city. I have a great view of others who have a better view. I wish the Mayor would get rid of the building across the street. Yet I am facing the city, and do have a good enough view.
At no time has this ever let me lose perspective. Yes, this is a wealthy area, but I was never wealthy. In fact, like most people, I was broke when I graduated college.
When I moved into this area in 1996, I did not even have my own bedroom. Four guys lived in a two bedroom apartment. I could have gotten a studio apartment (the equivalent of a “loft” that only starving artists could glorify), but I wanted a big living room. Not having my own bedroom was a non-issue, even though I had my own room my whole life growing up and in college. It was like being in a fraternity house, which I never did.
The building has a heated pool, a jacuzzi and tennis courts. It has 24 hour security guards. Yet I was broke. When one of the guys had a girl come over, the other three guys would scatter. A woman would come over, see one guy in a two bedroom condo, and be impressed. My having a jacuzzi allowed me to entertain women far more beautiful than I ever had a right to be around.
Somebody once asked me if it was wrong to use my place to attract women. I remembered advice from my Orthodox Rabbi grandfather (rest his soul). He used to sell indulgences. When asked if it was unethical for him to sell passes into Heaven, he responded, “No. It is unethical for people to buy them.” I miss him. So when asked if it was shallow for me to use my place to attract women, I would reply, “No. It was wrong for them to be impressed.”
13 years later, I still live in the same building, although in a bigger place on a higher floor. I have my own large master bedroom with closet space that makes women envious. It never occurred to me, but in the stockbrokerage industry, the phrase “fake it until you make it” is common. My friend remarked to me two years ago that somewhere along the line I “really did become that guy living in the highrise condo.”
Until he said it, it did not hit me. I was not faking it any more. I had actually achieved the status I was striving for.
It did not come easy. I worked hard. When I started out as a 22 year old stockbroker, I arrived in the office at 5am and stayed until 7pm. Four days of 14 hours was followed by a half day on Friday, which was still eight hours. Come 1pm, we were out for the weekend. I had the whole Friday to play, which I spent sleeping before going out.
Like anyone, I scratched and clawed. If it was not for the jacuzzi, I am not sure I would have gotten a single date, certainly not from the caliber of women that came over. The security guards were incredibly kind to me. It made an impression when the woman would arrive in her car, and the guard would say, “Ms. (name redacted) is here.” Nobody came up without a phone call. That gave me a few extra minutes to make sure the place was spotless clean.
One time a woman that I was pursuing for two years finally came over. The guard called up and said, “Ms. (name redacted) is here…and she is very beautiful. You are one lucky man.” She was in a great mood before she even reached my door.
Yet as much as this appears to be a story about women, it is not.
It is about life, and what it takes to live in this area.
It costs a high price. Everything comes at a price.
At any minute, anything and everything could be taken away from me. It can happen to any of us.
The greater the power, the greater the pressure.
The stock market collapse of 2000 did not wipe me out, but it could have. I was lucky. The collapse of 2008 was even tougher, but through a combination of luck and skill I am still in the game.
I have always kept my expenses low, but financial time bombs hit all of us. I have loaned money to friends and borrowed money from them. Everything was paid back.
I have had the same friends my whole life. When we are sitting around the dinner table at a restaurant, some make more than me and some make less. It is impossible to tell who is who, which is how it should be.
Spending money does not mean wasting it. I bought a $2,000 black leather sofa set for $600. The couple getting rid of it was simply too rich to care. One person in my building was throwing out a gorgeous marble table. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I still can’t believe they got rid of it. My big screen television was worth $3,000 at the time. I bought it for $800 factory refurbished after doing much research on factory refurbished and getting a warranty.
I do not have a million dollars in the bank. Far from it. Yet I am surviving, and at times, thriving. More importantly, at the risk of excessive rhyming, I am always hard driving. Sometimes I am too hard driving.
Fear of failure drives me to succeed. I do not want what I have taken from me.
When I explained this to the 40+ woman in my condo that night, we reached a very clear melding of the minds. She had had a rough life, and knew what it was like to struggle. It does get easier, but it is never easy.
When we were done tasting the sweetness of life (and the rest), she got up, straightened herself up, and went to the balcony to look at the view. I stared at her to look at the view. She said that what she saw was amazing. I, still staring at her, let her know that I thought she was amazing.
She gave me that look that told me to focus on something besides her fabulous (redacteds).
Yet at this point I was staring at her because I did not want to look out the window. A few weeks later I would finally look outside and get some perspective. On this night I did not want to think about it.
Playing with her body brought me a brief respite from my worries. I wanted to just enjoy the moment, but as I told her, in 48 hours I had some business to take care of, and I regretted having to wait two days to get started.
I just can’t go back to being broke. When one is older, it is harder. I am only 37, but it goes by rapidly.
As I kissed her goodnight, we both realized that what had overwhelmed us an hour earlier was just another metaphor for life.
The greater the power, the greater the pressure.
I have little relaxation, but zero regrets. This is the life I chose.
Everything must be earned. I am still learning and still working.
Otherwise the view and everything that comes along with it will be fleeting.
Getting it is tough. Keeping it is tougher.
She saw power. I felt pressure.
eric
Kansas City Chiefs @ Jacksonville Jaguars
Jaguars by 6½
Baltimore Ravens @ Cincinnati Bengals
Ravens by 3
Houston Texans @ Indianapolis Colts
Colts by 9
Washington Redskins @ Atlanta Falcons
Falcons by 10
Green Bay Packers @ Tampa Bay Buccaneers
Packers by 10
Arizona Cardinals @ Chicago Bears
Bears by 3
Miami Dolphins @ New England Patriots
Patriots by 10½
Carolina Panthers @ New Orleans Saints
Saints by 13½
Detroit Lions @ Seattle Seahawks
Seahawks by 10
Tennessee Titans @ San Francisco 49ers
49ers by 4
San Diego Chargers @ New York Giants
Giants by 5
Dallas Cowboys @ Philadelphia Eagles
Eagles by 3
Pittsburgh Steelers @ Denver Broncos
Broncos by 3
As a moral prerogative, perhaps everything “must” be earned. But in real life, where real people live and work and share too much information about other people’s sex lives, it is faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar from true. Everything is most certainly NOT earned. Now, sure, for some people it is. Some people work hard, luck be damned, and make it all by themselves, rising up and achieving more than other people with the same gifts and flaws, luck and circumstance, simply by making good choices and working hard. Some people make good choices, ostensibly anyway, work hard, and life just sticks it to them no matter what they do. C’est la vie.
Many wealthy people are niether successful, nor productive, nor deserving. Many poor people are quite successful, very productive, and are quite undeserving of their lot. People who have it a little easy can sometimes forget, or conveniently block out, these realities. No more than a soldier does not want to believe hs lost his arm in an unjust war does a wealthy person want to believe that they are lucky or undeserving of their wealth. It is one of the oldest human traits – cognitive dissonance. There’s another old human condition that goes with that: the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness, as John Kenneth Galbraith reminded us once. That is the moral philsophy of Ayn Rand, of modern “conservatism.” It is immoral and unethical no matter how you lok at it. That is why Rand had to deny God, and the modern conservative had to remake Him in the image of capitalism.
Now, of course, it’s different for everyone – everyone has their own story. Life may be roughly fifty percent what you make of it and fifty percent luck, but for each indiviudal life the equation vastly varies. For some people, making it is stealing and lying and gambling and murdering. Millions of Americans arwe suffering right now, through no fault of their own, because lying thieves on Wall Street and in bank offices ran amok while a laizzez faire government, with the superior moral justification of selfishness, did nothing to stop them. Maybe our good host feels some guilt? Maybe not for anything he did, but for the failure of the superior moral justification for selfishness?
Our good host would do well to remember the Book of Job. “Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it under his tongue.” There is no superior moral justification for selfishness.
JMJ
“There is no superior moral justification for selfishness.”
Something that those who think they’re entitled to my money should think about
Yeah right. Like private insurance companies who take your premiums but never pay claims? How about “too big to fail” corporations? Or a military sector that invents threats to take more money from you for themselves than all the other entities combined?
You pay for your own entitlements, Micky. You qualify for them just like everyone else. Your very response there – obviously refering to people on welfare ond auch – is yet another search for a superior moral justification for selfishness. You don’t in a vacuum, Micky, you live in a society. Pay your fair share, vote for elected officials who you feel do that best at making it fair, and stop complaining about the least among you while the most powerful among you fleece you. It’s cowardly and dumb.
JMJ
Bullshyt Jersey.
The big cry coming from liberals today is that those who oppose Obamacare are selfish.
Why ? because I dont want to pay for your coverage ?
We live in a society where we are entitled to our private property.
my money is my property and if the government takes it its thru representation for commojn good and not to pay others bills for their stinking doctors or cars or homes.
You freaking morons try to make the common good anything that suits your interest.
Your argument is one based on emotion and your own warped justifications. The constitution guarantees no right to healthcare and nowhere does it say I have to pay for yours.
The fact is that the majority of the country does not want government run healthcare that they have to pay for.
Period.
But your leftist moral equivication dictates that we must do it for measly 40 million. A large percentage of who dont even qualify.
I already pay my fair share, where does it stop ?
HUH ?
“is yet another search for a superior moral justification for selfishness. ”
The one who actually owns something is entitled to be selfish, because it belongs to him.
Those who own nothing and demand what is not theres are the truly selfish ones.
Besides that, its a statistical fact that conservatives, republicans and those on the religious right are the most generous and charitable demographic on the planet.
And its always the left that has their hand out playing the guilt card,
let then go to the emergency room or go get some medicade/medicare that I already pay into.
Or come to the two pantrys I volunteer at if they’re hungry, or if they’re diseased with addiction I’ll take them in, detox em and get em treatment.
I do enough, I have no guilt
> There is no superior moral justification for selfishness.
There’s far less moral justification for slavery.
If I work for something, earn it, and suffer to obtain it, by what right does someone else come in and take it away, to give it to someone else who hasn’t worked as hard as I have, who hasn’t striven for it, who hasn’t given up a large chunk of their lives for it?
You know, I’ve been around a lot of different people who earn six figures or close to them.
You know what I’ve found to be a common trait among them?
Sixty and seventy hour weeks.
I work hard, but I’ve *never* worked like that on a consistent basis. And I know most others don’t, either. And this is particularly true of those who are “impoverished”. No, don’t tell me about your “exception”. I know enough people who are “impoverished”, and I know how they spend their time and money — a lot more like *I* do, than like those six-figure people.
As a result, frankly, I don’t object to them getting very well paid for what they do.
I’ve got another friend who plans to be worth a couple million before he’s fifty-five.
He’s not working sixty or seventy hour weeks for it, though. He’s just doing without while he’s younger. He lives in a modest home, drives seven-to-ten year old cars, has a 20″ TV set that’s 15 years old, no cable tv, and socks most of the money he isn’t spending away year after year, knowing that after 20-30 years, the interest on that money will add up quite a bit.
Now, having deprived himself of things to make himself wealthy in his maturity, who exactly is going to come along and take that away because “he has too much”?
He “has too much” because he DID WITHOUT.
He should then suffer because of others who did NOT DO WITHOUT?
There’s a word for when someone takes away the product of your labors and gives it to others who haven’t labored for it.
It’s called SLAVERY.
And if you think slavery is an a-ok thing because “those people don’t need that”, I have two words for you: “F*** OFF”. and two more that go with it: “AND DIE”. Add to that a pejorative followup: “You excreble, repulsive little cockroach” and you have my opinion of your ideas.
‘Nuff said.