"Money is not that it's all cracked up to be; having it just makes the evil people who love it leave you alone!"
True story: My nephew performed in an honor's band concert last weekend and did well, so I decided to buy him a set of drums. I went into a music store and purchased a set and had it delivered to his home. While in there, I saw a pair of congas that I thought were absolutely beautiful that would have made an awesome decorative piece in my home. A keyboard sitting in the corner near the door also caught my eye as I walked in, but on that day, I was focused on just getting my nephew his drum set, and I did. Mission accomplished.
The congas and the keyboard weighed heavily on my mind so I went back the next day and bought them, with a stand for the keyboard, some music books and a set of bongos. I figured my kids would have a blast with the instruments so I looked at another drum set, too. The music store staff was greatly pleased with my purchases and began to treat me like I had a million dollars to spend in there that day. When the kids saw what I had purchased, they were also well pleased. We made sounds (since none of us know how to play) ranging from the beautiful to the God-awful for about 24 hours before one of them noticed a rubber piece missing from the bongo set. With the price tag and the wrench it came with still attached, I took the set back to the store. This day there was a man there I hadn't seen the first couple of visits. The woman who assisted me both days before recognized me and was more than eager to help me. Before cutting her off as she tried to explain the situation to him, and without looking up or getting up from his seat, the man rudely addressed me by saying, "I can tell you right now we don't have that piece in this store. I don't know what tell you." I was stunned. Again, before being cut off, the woman tried to explain to him that I had just purchased the set from them a couple of days before. "I don't know what we can do about it," he said nastily. "I told you we don't have that piece in the store. I don't know what else can be done about this. I don't see how you could have lost that piece anyway!" Sensing my ire rising, she blurted out, "she bought them from..." Cutting her off again, he said, "you need to take them back where you bought them because we don't have that part here!" She said timidly, "she bought them here." I said, "yeah, a couple of days ago." "Oh," he said with egg on his face. "You must have bought them from over there," pointing to the room adjacent to the one he was sitting in. The woman must have taken that one personally because she responded in a not-so-shy-manner, "No. She got them from right here," as she stood in front of a display of bongos on a stand parallel to the man's desk. By this time she's giving him a look, imploring him to stop the drama. Of course I'm standing there as snug as a bug in a rug, because I know he's about to eat a HUGE piece of crow. He finally stood up and followed her to the stand. At some point during their short journey, she let him know that I was the woman she had told him about. As if the Heavens had abruptly opened up, he looked back at me, who had not moved from my spot, and said, "maybe we could take a piece from one of these and order another one for ourselves." I looked and said, "or exchange them." "Oh. No, no," he said. "We can just put this piece on yours. It's okay."
From that point he began helping me as if Prince had walked through the door with me. "Is there anything else we can do for you? They told me you came in and bought an arsenal the other day..." Although I didn't blush at the red carpet treatment I was now getting, I did begin to feel a little purple...
The point is, until the man realized I was the woman the staff had been talking about--the one who came in and dropped a stack of cash or two on instruments she couldn't even play--I was nobody, nothing, trash to him. He treated me like I was trying to swindle something out of him. He was rude, obnoxious and downright ugly. And it was all so unnecessary. I got that treatment from him until the evil bastard realized I could buy more of what his store was selling. The money spent meant nothing to me, but I'm sure I won't have that problem in that store ever again. The money meant much more to his evil self than it could ever mean to me. Playing the instruments is a blast, though! The kids and I are having a great time, but my heart bleeds for those who have to endure the treatment that I got from this guy when I first walked in. Truth be told, the kids and I could have made instruments out of stuff around the house and it would have been the same thing. Why? Because none of us know anything about making music, but the time we spend together attempting it is priceless!
My message to you is this: if you're one of those people who wastes most of his/her time daydreaming of having lots of money or complaining that you don't, stop and think about how much of your life you're wasting away. Most of what you think money will do for you is a crock. It's what those with money want you to believe because they don't want to tell you how miserable their lives really are. Let me ask you a serious question (and you can answer honestly because no one will know your answer but you): would you rather be happy or rich? Ideally, we'd all like to be both, but that's not reality for most of us regardless of which side we're on. I think of the late great Junior Seau (formerly with the San Diego Chargers). From the outside looking in, this guy had all the things one would think would have made him or anyone else happy, but obviously not. A great guy like Seau committing suicide? San Diego loved this guy and I'm sure many others from around the nation did, too, but he wasn't happy. And he had lots of money!
I've been homeless and have seen broke many days. I've also been in situations where there was so much cash available to me that I didn't have to worry about a thing. I could make a $5.00 purchase or a $50,000 one, and slide my debit card back into the slot in my wallet without waiting to see whether or not the card would be declined. I've been on both sides of the coin, but I can say that my happiest days were not when the money was high; it was when my kids and I were safe. It was when being broke forced my family and me to do things together. We'd make up and play games to get through the rough times, and have a lot of fun doing it! Now, we're not making up games; we're making up music--when we see each other. And if any of my neighbors are reading this...Guys, really, I'm sorry about the noise, but we're having a blast over here!
My family's safety and happiness is what's important to me. It's what makes me feel rich. Find what's important to you and pursue it. If you don't have a lot of money, you can still be happy. You can also have a lot of money and feel like dying. The key to being rich is finding out that which is really important to you and enjoying it. Make happiness your pursuit in life; stop chasing money because if you get it and don't know what truly makes you happy...
...you'll just be rich and sad, and that can be a lethal combination for anybody.
RIP, Junior. You are greatly missed.
