My dad and I had a conversation recently, and the
conclusion was challenging but ultimately expected. From two different
generations, our values don’t align. That’s not to say that we don’t have overlapping
perspectives regarding literal human existence, but, to quote DFW, what we both
see as the “capital T truth” about who we are and why we are alive is
different. And that’s okay.
I spend a lot of time in my car. The reality of
living in Chicago and working in the suburbs takes its toll on my car, but it
no longer takes a toll on me. Regardless if podcasts are the reasons, I’ve
found solace in my solo driving. If nothing else, it gives me a chance to
think. Which is exactly what happened when I listened to [my favorite sports
and pop culture guru] Bill Simmons talk to [a now wildly respected and very
curious billionaire investor] Chris Sacca, touching on topics that I’ve very
rarely been tasked with considering along my seemingly perpetual 2 hours of
driving a day.
We didn’t have a ton growing up. Don’t get me wrong, we (my brother and I) were
privileged. Good school, new toys, and happy, in-love parents. So I guess take
all of this with a grain of salt. But from an early stage, my parents taught
the value of the dollar. They were not world-beaters at 30. And again, that
isn’t an insult. It was a sign of the times. They worked their asses off to
make sure we didn’t know they were working their asses off. It’s an
unbelievable trait, and I don’t write metaphorically.
Thing is, whether it’s my kind of hippie parents that somehow, unbenounced to
the rest of the world, found absolute happiness, or Chris Sacca, someone that
has both wiffed and connected on so many amazing Silicon Valley enterprises,
the end result tends to be the same.
If we’re talking monetary value, how could you even put my parents in the same
stratosphere as Chris Sacca? I don’t know a lot, but I’ve learned this.
Value is not in the face on the bill.
Currency is a fallacy. Sure, money makes it easier, but poll the 1% and ask if
they are happier. I know the ‘mo’ money mo’ problems’ idea isn’t new, but it
goes beyond the value of stocks or your retirement number. There has been such
a fucking notion seeping through society of ‘playing it safe’ is how you get
from point A to point B, that the average mind-numb imbecile is ready to chalk
up life to what was so clearly laid out for them. Truth is, and I believe and
DFW implied, the capital T truth is that currency is not the dollar or Euro or
Yen or Pound… The capital T ‘truth’ is currency is secret, selfish, BUT,
shockingly universal.
Universal, unlike the mildly entertaining theme parked attached to the sweaty
belly button that is Orlando, means that we all experience it. Whether we’re
stuck in rush hour traffic, banging the walls of our cubicle, or cleaning up
literal shit, we cannot believe this is all that matters. To quote another
-famous-but-mainly-from-a-movie figure, “would you be willing to trade all the
days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance…” to walk away
happy.
The choice seems simple. Either be happy, or live long enough to see yourself
become an asshole. But it’s my firm contention that either way, it’s a choice.
Long live the days when a speckle of gold made your life valuable. These days,
value is not only placed on what can make you money, but on who can make you
feel whole. A few extra commas in your bank account is nice, but I promise you,
feeling is the most valuable commodity we have on this planet. Sympathy.
Empathy. Compassion. Understanding. Trust. The more we use these 5 words, the
closer we get to a society that understands itself. My dad is 62. We are not
the same person. But I see in him, for possibly the first time in my lifetime,
an openness to what could be next.
Every day, every one of us gets closer to dying. That’s not cynicism, that’s
reality. But the way I see it, we have two goals in life. Impact everyone you
meet in a positive way, and be happy with who you are. Those ideas are so independent
of fiscal representation…
Currency is not a fact, it’s an opinion.
