“You’re a slave to money, then you die.”
--Bittersweet Symphony, The Verve, The 90’s
I’ve always believed five days of work and two days of fun is not a formula that needs to be followed. We get stuck in roles and stereotypes, plus most jobs tend to force us into this, but ‘working for the weekend’ seems so fleeting and pretty fucking boring.
I could make enough money teaching tennis to live extremely comfortably and build savings. I don’t do this though. I scrape by on rent, have no savings, and am still stuck in the ‘getting by’ phase of financial security. Why? For one, teaching that much tennis would completely burn me out, leaving me exhausted physically and mentally. Second, I’d have no time to enjoy myself, write and pursue other interests, explore, live like I want to live, and construct grandiose run-on sentences. I’d be working for that little two day window to get out and have fun with the rest of the working world.
One of my tennis clients has his own island. Yes, his own island. I have no idea how he got his money; whether he worked tirelessly and became successful or was born into it, but he certainly knows how to spend his money. Working in a rich area has definitely sparked my imagination as to what I would do if I inherited or fell into a bunch of money. Rather than putting it in a boring bank account, or purchasing that status-symbol Beemer that looks like every other car in the Merrill Lynch parking lot, I have some more out-of-the-box ideas for what I’d do with my cash…
1. Purchase every dog in animal shelters around the LA area, get them some good food, then film my own reality show. The premise: one guy trying to live with a thousand dogs. Imagine the struggle for space on the bed, the constant overflow of poop, and the household politics. Poor little dogs get a home, plus we get to watch one dude most likely have a nervous breakdown. It’ll be totally unscripted, but will still somehow have better writing than “The Big Bang Theory.”
*If the dogs overtake him and the guy dies, we’ll just get a new guy. It’ll be like survivor, only with homicide.
2. Hire enough people to herd the members of Nickelback into a van at gunpoint. After duct taping their mouths, berating them with verbal mockery and insults, and setting loose a live raccoon, they will be forced into exile on their own island (surrounded by hungry, vicious sharks). The island will have a radio with enough battery power to last a year. The radio will play Nickelback’s Greatest Hits (oxymoron) on repeat until they promise to never make music again. Enough is enough.
3. Start my own law enforcement branch, the “Grammar Police.” Anyone caught using “Your, You’re,” or “Their, There, They’re” incorrectly will be forced to repeat the 2nd grade.
4. Blow it all in Vegas. They could use the extra cash.
5. Buy a house in every state (except Kansas…I’m not a masochist), then hire a sky-writer to write “SNAKE IS EVERYWHERE, BITCH!” in the sky.
*No, I’m not drunk, I just think that’d be pretty funny. I’d probably give most of the houses away to deserving people…especially the ones in shitty states.
6. Buy a house on the beach, then open up a Chik-fil-a inside my house. First of all, Chik-fil-a is fucking delicious. Second, the employees are always extremely friendly. Add in a Pop-A-Shot machine, a beer fountain, and a Swedish masseuse and I’m probably not leaving that house…ever.
These suggestions are just the tip of the iceberg (not a Titanic joke). In the end, I’m just happy being able to pay rent (fingers still crossed for this month). I don’t need all that stuff, I’d love some of it, but I value free time and experiences more than earnings and financial success. I sincerely hope to never become a mindless slave to money so I can continue to tell jokes, run on the beach trying to be Hasselhoff, and of course, write a disjointed, goofy comedy blog.
Oh by the way, reading Snake Alley now costs $1.99 per page view…I need some extra cash. Thanks.
Snake Alley Song of the Day: The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony
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