North Star Writers Group

If I were smarter, the first thing I’d do is start my own business. I’m being completely honest when I say that this wish of mine has nothing to do with making more money, although admittedly, someday I would like to have cable television.

But more than anything, it would be nice to not have to answer to a superior. Bosses are no fun, and I think it’s because everyone knows they are more important than you. Whatever aura of respect you may command completely pales in comparison to theirs. Not only do they make more money than you, but whatever you make is usually up to them. The nauseating truth of the matter is that your financial freedom is severely tangled up in your ability to make your boss happy. Want to make more money? Learn to make a good pot of coffee, look busy and keep a clean desk.

Gag me.

If I were just a bit smarter – OK, much, much smarter – I’d never have to answer to another boss (except for my wife, of course). But unfortunately, my level of intelligence being what it is, I have yet to come up with much.

My first idea was to start a sock company that sells only individual socks (no pairs). This seemed to me like a pretty hip and trendy idea. Imagine being at a slumber party, and as usual, everyone sits in a circle and shows off their socks. You’ll blow the competition away. It’s double the expression.

My next idea was to start a watch company whose watch faces display any arbitrary combination of numbers except for the usual multiples of three. This also seemed a pretty hip and trendy idea. It’s modern, maybe even post-modern, although I’ve never been quite sure what that meant. But just think of the statement you’re making when the only points of reference on your watch are 2, 3 and 5. Firstly, you’re saying, “The only part of the hour I care for is the middle part of the first half.” You’re also saying, “I have no need for the rest of the numbers because I am so exceedingly clever.” And lastly, all of my watches would boldly proclaim, “What is time? Is it not more than a number?” I might even have this inscribed on the backs of a select number of watches and charge something like 20 times the normal price.

Finally, I thought it would be pretty cool to start my own web site. I can picture myself as one of those corduroy pants-wearing hipsters who spends his whole life in coffee shops with his laptop. I could drink coffee and smoke cigarettes all day. Rumor has it that this random web site business is working out pretty well for a handsome number of people.

The problem with these ideas is that, I neither know anything, nor care at all, about socks, watches or how to build a web site. For that matter, I don’t know a thing about computers.

So I asked myself, what am I good at? As Martin Short asked the villagers of Santa Poco in “Three Amigos”, “What is it that this town really does well?” My reaction was eerily similar to the villagers’ – confused, flustered, hopeful that someone near me would chime in. Unfortunately, the only thing I excel at is Scrabble, and where does that get me?

So I backed up a little and asked myself, what do I really care about? Or as “Office Space” so effectively asked, “What would you do if you had a million dollars?” Again, my reaction was uncomfortably similar to the movie. It’s not that I’m lazy. I’m not even convinced that I’m unintelligent. But I am becoming more and more convinced that I just don’t care. After all, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to get out there and “beat the pavement.” You just have to be passionate about something.

I’m passionate about “Lost” (the TV show). I’m also passionate about Quentin Tarantino movies. I’m exceptionally passionate about watching a sports team from Philadelphia win a championship in my lifetime.

Do you ever wonder, who are these people who obsess about their hair-brained ideas? Who woke up one morning and decided, “I will not rest until every person in America owns an iPod”? Who was it that realized they were passionate about the Big Mac? Am I the crazy one here?

I think we live in a crazy world.

And consequently, perhaps you can understand why my best chance at getting ahead is to learn how to make a delicious pot of coffee.

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This is Column # NS062. Request permission to publish here.