So here's the thing: I am at present extremely not-yet-rich, and sometimes this is not-yet-fun. Take for example: the date January 20th recently passed, and for those who do not take pause to observe the moment, January 20th is the date assigned for the inauguration of the President of the United States--in those years when a President is inaugurated. Five years ago, when George II was inaugurated, I made a little pact with myself: on that day I donated money to an organization dedicated to the environment, because I figured that with a Republican in office, such organizations were going to need every dime they could get. (For the record: originally I donated to The Nature Conservancy, but as time passed I decided I needed someone a little more militant and switched over to the Natural Resources Defense Council--but don't worry, you'll never find me becoming an Earth First!er.) And then every year thereafter, for at least as long as George II was in office, I would donate money on the 20th of January. (Alas, as time passed it began to feel important to donate to a whole host of organizations: the ACLU, Amnesty International, and so on. So many important things at risk these days, and so little money to spread around.)
But this year, I just plain don't have the money, and the 20th of January passed with my pledge broken. It was not a happy moment. But you won't hear me calling myself poor, oh no. I am proudly not-yet-rich, that's what I am. I'm doing the 30-day sprint, I've got balls in the air (so to speak), and eventually something is going to happen somewhere. It's just a matter of time and continued application of effort.
In the meantime, there are things to learn. I got fired from a dayjob a while back, and with everything in my life in real jeopardy I suddenly found myself feeling a real hostility toward, to pick only one example, drivers in their fancy cars. Those smug little SOBs hurtling around L.A. in their Jaguars, their Mercedeses and their Lexi, the ostentatious overly-manicured women behind the wheels of their ginormous Escalades. There are a lot of aggressive, downright obnoxious drivers in Los Angeles, and there's a lot of wealth on conspicuous display. But it took me no time at all to find myself one of those people shut out of that world, and even if it was only temporary, it came as a revelation: there are an awful lot of people out there who are not not-yet-rich, who are instead ain't-never-gonna-be-rich, and I know firsthand how they feel sometimes (not all the time, but sometimes) when they see the wealthy tooling around town. I had a little taste of desperation, and it's not pretty. When I reach the position of being finally-really-truly-rich, I need to make damn sure I remember that feeling; and make damn sure that my money goes out into the world in places where it does some good. Habitat for Humanity, for instance. Add it to the list, and not just when a Republican's in office.
In the meantime, there is joy to be found for free if you know where to look. The internet has opened up a world of free downloadable music, and sometimes this yields extraordinary dividends. There's a music blog called Said the Gramophone that features some really fine writing (sometimes), and that recently led me to this: a Hungarian gypsy band called Félix Lajkó playing nearly fourteen minutes of the most heart-stopping, can't-stop-dancing music you've ever heard in your life. Go and listen. Geez but are you gonna thank me for this one.
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