Acting as Badly as Billionaires

After the end of the supposed decade of greed of the 1980s, Cy Curnin of the band The Fixx sang the following lines:

How much is enough when your soul is empty?
How much is enough in the land of plenty?
When you have all you want and you still feel nothing
How much is enough, is enough?

How much is enough?
Buy, buy, buy
Buy, buy, buy

We're drowning in possessions

If Cy had only known then how things would evolve over the next 35 years, as income inequality proved ever-widening, he and his bandmates might have waited to release the song.

Those with obscene amounts of money are wielding unprecedented power in the United States, and it’s easy to be disheartened by the lack of compassion and the massive consumption of the uber-wealthy today. I think actor Jesse Eisenberg said it best when he appeared on Real Time with Bill Maher in January of 2025 and had this to say about tech billionaires and politics:

”If you’re so rich and powerful, why are you not just spending your days doing good things for the world?”

Good question. And while it’s tempting to hop on that bandwagon and lambast Bezos, Musk, Zuckerberg and the like, it might also be time to look in the mirror and question our own motives in life, because from where I’m standing, there’s a lot of “amass as much wealth as you can, retire and live out your days in a gated community somewhere” mentality.

It’s true for some relatives of mine. It’s true for many friends of mine. And if I’m being honest, it’s true for me and my family. I spend a lot of time watching financial videos by Rob Berger on YouTube, reading articles on Investopedia and Motley Fool, updating spreadsheets and forecasting when my wife can retire. It’s not like this is foolish behavior – financial literacy and planning are important – but what exactly is the goal here? When the world appears to be headed for irreversible disaster, am I just hoping to ride off into the sunset and escape from reality?

The antidote for this type of mentality – whether you’re a billionaire or otherwise – is to get involved. Find a cause or causes that you feel strongly about, and start contributing, not just financially, but with your time. I was teaching English for a few years, and since that petered out a year ago I’ve made a few modest attempts to find something new to contribute to, but so far those have gone nowhere. One of the sad truths in life is that non-profits aren’t always well-organized and often lead to wasted time and dead ends. But when that happens, it isn’t time to give up on volunteering; it’s time to find a different non-profit.

Volunteering boosts one’s outlook on life, creates social connections with like-minded people, leads you out of the bubble you’ve been living in, and makes a difference in the lives of people or the lives of plants and animals. Those differences might be small, but that’s okay. If you’ve ever been in need of a little help, you know how important small acts of kindness can be.

So don’t follow the blueprint of billionaires. Don’t look at life as a way to accumulate wealth and ride out the rest of your lives in a bubble. Get involved.

Low-Stakes Home Improvement

Spring is upon us (sort of), and that’s the time of year when I look around my house to see if anything needs improving. Sure, I could always paint a room, but that’s tedious and unfulfilling. No, for me it’s all about tackling low-stakes home improvement projects that require planning, a degree of ingenuity, power tools, and significant time. Little in life gives me more pleasure. A project that’s low-stakes is key. I’ve done some high-stakes projects as well, and those lead to stress, second-guessing, and safety concerns, but low-stakes projects are like a walk through the park on a mild day. Last summer I built shelving for my kitchen pantry, and that was perfect. There was no chance of my losing a digit and there was no significant risk, save for a shelf of canned goods collapsing.

This particular project probably only took me a day to execute, but it was the planning that took a week or more. I thought about it from every angle, measured and remeasured, watched videos on something called a pocket jig (who knew?), purchased said jig at Menard’s and perused shelving possibilities (Natural wood? Primed? Coated? Size?), read up on how best to anchor the sideboard into a wall that lacked properly-aligned studs...in short, I overplanned, but by the time it came to execution, well, I was ready.

And for me, planning is absolutely necessary, because I have no natural ability and have had no schooling of any kind except The Home Depot Home Improvement 1-2-3 book that my brother-in-law purchased for me back in 1997 when my wife and I moved into our first home. This was a game-changer. After all, I had never heard the words “home” and “improvement” in the same sentence in my childhood home. Sure, my mother could strip furniture and throw on coats of stain and varnish, but the only time I recall my father trying to fix something, it resulted in blood and lots of swear words, so I knew to stay clear of tools and manual projects.

When I purchased a house, I noticed all sorts of things that needed fixing, but I knew nothing. I mean, NOTHING. How do you swap out an electric outlet? No clue. How do you strip wallpaper? No clue. How do you take out a carpet and tack strips? No clue. My wife had married a man who was about as handy as screen door on a submarine.

But I was curious, I was motivated, and I wasn’t afraid to ask questions and try things. Back in these days before YouTube, it was my friend Rick who saved the day, sending me long, detailed emails that walked me through various tasks.  What he sometimes failed to realize was that I didn’t even know how to use a tool properly. I recall the first time I made a cut with a circular saw as part of a project to build my own music rackmount box: my hands were shaking, I was so terrified, sure that I was about to lose a finger or an eye. Today, I have to remind myself to wear eye protection when making a cut. I’ve come a long way.

Since then I’ve tackled all sorts of projects, including some that make me shudder today, as in “That was kind of crazy – I’m not going to do THAT again.” I’m no longer willing to do those. But projects like adding stairway railings or building record racks or installing pantry shelves? You betcha.

Say it with me: low stakes.

So I’m going to spend the next several months ascertaining which project to accomplish, a few more months planning said project, and by the fall I might be ready to put the plan into action!

Life Without Amazon

Comedian Marc Maron has a bit on his latest HBO special where he laments how little we as consumers can do to limit the power of big companies like Amazon. In it, he imagines Jeff Bezos cruising on his $100 million yacht, tracking the number of subscribers to Amazon Prime, and saying, “Looks like we lost one.”

It can often feel as if we’re powerless, but as with so many things in life – being kind, giving to charity, supporting local political movements, disposing our toxic waste properly – it’s important to live according to one’s values. It boosts our sense of self, it provides a model for our children, and it potentially moves the needle of society in some small way.

My wife and I had been saying for over a year that we should really ditch our subscription to Amazon Prime, not because it isn’t a good deal – it is – but because we don’t really want to support powerful companies anymore if they can be avoided. After all, I cancelled my Spotify subscription last year without regret, and I wondered if life without Amazon would be equally unproblematic. There are a lot of online articles you can research about how to shop without Amazon, but I decided I wasn’t going to bother – just go in and get ‘er done.

So we pulled the plug to our Prime membership a few months ago, and you know what? So far it hasn’t been a big deal at all. I’ve had to search a little harder for some items, but I ultimately found what I needed, and sometimes at lower costs than I would have paid on Amazon.  Here are a few examples:

Audio cables: I tried Best Buy, Crutchfield and Audio Advisor, but none offered what I was looking for. But then a search led me to Sweetwater, where I’ve often purchased recording equipment. Turns out they provide some home audio accessories for the same cost as Amazon, with free shipping and quick delivery. Perfect.

Soap dispensers: we were unhappy with the ones we purchased at Target a few years back and wanted something that would last a while. We opted to go to a local retail store called Uncharted, which now has around ten stores nationwide. It’s a fun place to browse – exactly the kind of brick-and-mortar store we want to support.

Two healthcare items to help with my arthritis: this was trickier. Ultimately, I saved about $20 by not purchasing them on Amazon and instead ordering from Walmart. Now, Walmart is not exactly a local mom and pop store, but it’s still less than half the size of Amazon. Not a perfect solution, but it got the job done in a pinch. This example shows the limitations of trying to avoid behemoths.

Books: there’s been a lot of buzz about the resurgence of Barnes and Noble, which has reimagined its business philosophy and is adding dozens of physical stores. It’s funny how what was once considered the “Big, Bad Bookstore” is now considered an underdog. Still, I haven’t had a great deal of success finding what I want at Barnes and Nobel. Instead, I’ve went the used route, purchasing second-hand books through eBay, often from charitable organizations. There’s also a great local used bookstore a few miles from my house that I try from time to time. They don’t always have what I’m looking for, but sometimes they come through.

My experiment of life without Amazon has only gone on for a few months so far, but I already think it will last. If needed, I can imagine paying one month of Prime during the holiday season when we’re making a lot of purchases and sending them out of state, but I’m hoping we can even avoid this compromise. Give it a shot! We lived without Amazon before the late 90s, and we can do it again. Maybe when Bezos sees tens of thousands of people unsubscribing from Prime, he’ll start to pay attention.

Sitting, Standing and Aging

It’s come to this:

If I stand too long, I need to sit.

If I sit too long, I need to stand.

This is not the way it used to be. I remember grooving with a gang of friends at a Jimmy Buffet concert back in 1990 and getting barked at by the old fogies behind us who wanted us to sit down. Now I’m one of those old fogies, except that I because I remember youth, I never tell someone to sit down. I just deal with it and wish I was forty years younger.

Last October I attended a Major League Baseball playoff game with an expensive seat that I paid for, and from the opening notes of “The Star Bangled Banner” to the last toss to first base, the crowd stood. Similarly, when I went to a Keane concert at the Chicago Theater in 2024 with an expensive seat that I paid for, from the opening chord to the last note of the encore, the crowd stood. I said not a word at either event, but I sure had to pick my spots to take a little breather and remind my body that it just had to hang in there for a little while longer.

Why? Why do we feel compelled to stand when we can just as easily see the action with our butts on the seats we paid for? There must be something about the act of standing that feels more engaged, more intentional, but man, do I wish it wasn’t so.

At least with a paid seat you can rest from time to time, but after attending an standing-room-only concert in Chicago last fall, I think I’ve sworn off these venues for good. I spent much of the night shifting from side to side and taking stretch breaks and walks to loosen my limbs. I just can’t do it anymore.

“Maybe it’s just standing in place that’s a problem. What if you’re moving around?”

Yeah, well, that can be an issue, too. When I work at the record store, I’m fairly mobile, restocking shelves, retrieving inventory, alphabetizing and helping customers. But after just two or three hours, my back feels like it’s a corkscrew.

“Well then, sitting must surely be okay.”

Oh, if only! I played piano on Christmas Eve at a church service, and I was reminded that extended sessions at a piano bench are no better than standing. After every carol ended in a “Halleluiah” or “Fa La La,” I took an opportunity to stand and stretch.

“So you can’t stand, you can’t walk around and you can’t sit. What can you do?”

Um…honestly, complain. That’s about all I have left.

Splendid Isolation

At my twentieth high school reunion (nineteen years ago!) I spoke to an old high school classmate who was amazed at how many people I’d kept in touch with over the years, as she had lost contact with most of her old colleagues. I told her, “I tend to judge my day based on who I’ve talked to. If I don’t talk to anyone, I feel depressed.” This was a foreign concept to her; she was happy just doing her thing – in her case, athletics – and she valued her day by what she’d accomplished rather than her social interactions.

Of course it wasn’t all social interactions for me: I wrote and recorded songs, tackled significant home improvement projects, practiced various instruments, etc., but it’s true that among my circle of friends, I’ve often been known as the guy who reaches out and plans things. This has mellowed over time, but for years I was a big event organizer.

Yesterday, I hung out with an old friend who said it took him a long time to come to peace with the fact that he’s happiest when he’s on his own and able to listen to music or watch a concert DVD or play the piano. For so long he’d judged his preferences, like there was something wrong with him, but over time he’s learned to accept that he enjoys solitude and doesn’t necessarily care to associate with people on a regular basis.

His realization reminded me of a blog I wrote last year called Pursuing Happiness, in which I described how so often we judge ourselves based on what others are telling us we should enjoy.

We’re told we should see the world, but I don’t particularly like traveling overseas. We’re told to go on cruises, but I didn’t really dig my cruise experience. We’re told to see the latest ginormous concert event, but I don’t want to see a concert at a stadium at all, much less pay a small fortune to see it. We’re told to modernize our homes to match the latest trends, but I like the old, cozy feeling of my 1928 bungalow.

It can take a while to accept who we are and what our preferences are. And I’m not suggesting that our lives should be static and that we shouldn’t stretch ourselves and grow and discover, but it doesn’t have to be what society is telling us. And in most definitely can include spending a Saturday watching concert DVDs.

My buddy found a degree of validation in an old Warren Zevon song called “Splendid Isolation,” a track I hadn’t heard before, but it’s a perfect example of what Zevon was capable of: communicating the truth comedically:

I wanna live all alone in the desert
I wanna be like Georgia O'Keefe
I wanna live on the Upper East Side
And never go down in the street

Splendid isolation
I don't need no one
Splendid isolation

Michael Jackson in Disneyland
Don't have to share it with nobody else
Lock the gates, Goofy, take my hand
And lead me through the world of self

Fun stuff. And look, no one is suggesting that we should live a hermit-like existence. My buddy who likes solitude is also a loving husband and father who has a full-time job that requires constant interaction with others. He’s no J.D. Salinger. And maybe these other responsibilities are what makes alone time so precious to him. Perhaps when he retires he’ll be itching for more communal time.

But whatever. He should do him. I should do me. And you should do you. Yes, I think we all have an obligation to help those around us who are in need. But beyond that, put on that Rush DVD and enjoy!