|
There used to be this old doorman at the hotel where I worked. I used to kid him about how old he was, like how they
built the hotel up around him and how he first voted for Lincoln. I'm sure it was a lot funnier when I was saying it to him
than it is to read it here.
He was a great guy, but he used to move bags and hail cabs for a living. He didn't even hold doors open, since the doors
were automatic. But I used to wonder why it didn't drive him crazy; I know it would drive me crazy. I know that for sure,
because the job I have now is just as challenging as moving bags and hailing cabs.
It's not that I mind the work, and I like the company and the people, but there's just no challenge to it. It's like
if you got paid to open jars of peanut butter for eight hours a day. And all of this has got me thinking of how we define
success.
I would say that success is not money, or power, or fame, or any of those things, which is very easy for me to say, since
I have none of them. So either I have rejected material things in favor of more spiritual pursuits, or I'm just a failure,
depending on how you look at it. I prefer the first explanation; I'm certain my ex-wife would prefer the second.
(Side note: I still love saying ex-wife every chance I get....not out of malice towards her, but just to remind
myself how far I've come, emotionally and spiritually, since the divorce)
After a lot of thought, I've reached the conclusion that there really are only two ways to measure success in life.
The First Measure of Success:
Trained Monkeys
The first measure of success is, on the surface of it, very simple. You just have to look at yourself, honestly, and
ask "How quickly could a monkey be trained to replace me?"
If you carry luggage or run a belt sander, it wouldn't take long at all. In fact, monkeys are really good at things like
that. If I had a bloated sense of self-importance, or if my job was at all threatened by an influx of trained monkeys into
the workforce, and if I gave half a crap about saving my job, I could argue that I do a lot more than just run the belt sander.
I also spot-check the parts for flaws. But that would only take another 30 seconds or so to train a monkey to do, so I'm kind
of right back where I started.
I'm thinking like an accountant or a kindergarten teacher might be next. I think monkeys can learn to count and teach
the alphabet, but I'm pretty sure that when monkeys get tired of you, they try to kill you. It would definitely take some
extra training before getting a monkey to work with children.
And then of course there's things monkeys could never be trained to do, like designing cars and working with explosives.
I'm pretty sure monkeys could never sing, but Hollywood actors would do well to remember Lancelot Link if they ever start to feel irreplacable.
There is one glitch in this whole theory, and that is astronauts. Because to become an astronaut, you have to be in top
physical shape, probably serve in the military with distinction, learn all kind of physics and science and everything. They
got the Right Stuff, they're the cream of the crop, the best of the best. And yet, they train monkeys to do it.
Well (except for being an astronaut, I guess), if you're doing a job that a monkey could never be trained to do, you
must be doing ok.
The Second Measure of Success:
Stalkers
Assume for our purposes here that the only people who stalk other people are all insecure, schizo psychotics with no
sense of identity except what others provide for them. Crazy people. So if you're being stalked at all, by anyone, then at
least you can assume that one insane person values you, even if no one else does.
Anyone can be a victim of a stalker, and it doesn't matter how rich or good-looking you are. The real measure of success
is how rich or good-looking the people stalking you are.
Waitresses and computer geeks and construction workers stalk anyone. There's really nothing special about that.
But if you have to get restraining orders against fashion models and weather girls, or you have to tell Oprah to
quit calling you, then you must be doing ok.
(Update March 23, 2006)
The Third Measure of Success:
People Steal Your Stuff
Today I took my car to the car wash and I had it vacuumed out and cleaned and shampooed and washed and waxed and it was
really awesome. I mean its just great driving around in a car that doesn't have toys and crumbs and gross stuff all in it.
And as I was driving around running errands it occurred to me that for the first time in my life I own a car that someone
may actually want to steal.
I've always owned cars that were at least ten to fifteen years old. They were always beat up and scratched and I never
really cared, it was just a way to get from here to there. It still is, but now I can afford something a bit nicer. And that's
kind of cool. But I've never worried about anyone stealing my car, or any of my stuff, really. I've never had anything worth
stealing.
(Note: Once I had one of those suction-cup window things of one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and someone stole
it, but I think that's about it).
So anyway, I guess if someone wants to steal your car, or break into your apartment, then that's a pretty good sign of
success that at least you can afford stuff that other people envy and hate you for.
(Update March 23, 2006)
The Fourth Measure of Success:
Liberals Hate You
It seems to me that liberals have this really skewed way of looking at things that's almost completely backwards.
When I was in fourth grade, my teacher told me that the bread companies were required by law to put dates on
the packages of bread. The implication was that the government had to make them do it, because all they cared
about was profit and didn't care if they sold old, moldy bread to children. And so they devised a system of "dating" the bread
by the color of the twist-ties, so that no one would be able to decipher this cryptic dating system and then they would buy
old bread and probably get poisoned by it and die.
And I believed it, until I was old enough to realize that if all they really cared about was profit, then corporate America
would be totally kissing my ass so that I would spend money on what they were selling. And they wouldn't be
trying desperately to pollute rivers and streams to kill me, because there was no profit in that. But I grew up hearing how
these big corporations hated me and wanted to kill me, all in the name of profit.
You see, if you're conservative, liberals think you're stupid, but if you're really successful, liberals hate you. I
don't pretend to know how it all works, because you can be a successful liberal like Steven Spielberg or George Clooney and
then it's ok to be a billionaire, but if you work hard all your life and become CEO of a Fortune 500 Company, that's not
ok and you're part of the problem. Because then, all you care about is money.
This is all the simple, black-and-white way of looking at things, and I don't think that anything is ever this simple
in real life. But there it is.
|
