Home Again II
It's the beginning of the months so it's time for reserves baby!!!
Since I now reside in the 9 - double O - 2 - O (you gotta say it with style), my company paid for my stay up here in the Bay Area. I mean, they obviously need me to attend the reserve meetings. Who else is going to pass out the material, nod amiably at everything, shine the shoes, align the paper clips, sharpen the pencils and sit in the dark corner like a good little model minority?
I flew into Oakland last night in a sparsely filled plane and a crowded BART (I think there was an A's game). While waiting for the airplane, airBART, BART and walking through my Crown Plaza hotel (thanks right... that just took your breath away), I noticed that many of my counterparts consisted of the corporate cohort. Most of my fellow travellers were well beyond my years. Males who were balding, adjusting their belts around their formidable belly, fixing ties, and shoving more work to the helpless peon on the other end of their blackberry. The females were much better at concealing their wrinkles and sagging flesh with the of gloss, paint, powder, wool and cotton popular to the higher end of the economic spectrum.
I'm sure all of them were important in their own right, having diligently poured out their younger years in climbing the corporate ladder. I don't mean to sound like I'm looking down on it, but it seemed me a tragedy that there were so many people traveling in odd hours of the night, alone and accompanied only with the latest gadget or clinging to some remnant of community via a cellphone.
I have to admit that traveling for the purposes of business is still very novel to me. I still like to jump on the bed when I first get into my room. I'm amazed at the fairy who makes wet towels, trash and messy covers disappear. But I couldn't imagine doing this for years... sorry to all my auditor and consultant friends. But I digress.
While I was people watching the corporate herd, grazing on airport food and wired on caffeine beverages, I just got an affirmation that this really is a rat race. One of my worst fears is the American dream; house, wife, kids, dog and a sizable retirement. It's not the actual things that it consists of, but more of the attiude that it seems to convey. I'm not sure if I'm just echoing a sermon I heard from John Piper, but the drinking margarita, playing golf and tending a small garden seems like a death not worth the investment. I'm not the most spirited filled person, but this is one part of the corporate life that just isn't very attractive to me.
Don't Waste Your Life
Since I now reside in the 9 - double O - 2 - O (you gotta say it with style), my company paid for my stay up here in the Bay Area. I mean, they obviously need me to attend the reserve meetings. Who else is going to pass out the material, nod amiably at everything, shine the shoes, align the paper clips, sharpen the pencils and sit in the dark corner like a good little model minority?
I flew into Oakland last night in a sparsely filled plane and a crowded BART (I think there was an A's game). While waiting for the airplane, airBART, BART and walking through my Crown Plaza hotel (thanks right... that just took your breath away), I noticed that many of my counterparts consisted of the corporate cohort. Most of my fellow travellers were well beyond my years. Males who were balding, adjusting their belts around their formidable belly, fixing ties, and shoving more work to the helpless peon on the other end of their blackberry. The females were much better at concealing their wrinkles and sagging flesh with the of gloss, paint, powder, wool and cotton popular to the higher end of the economic spectrum.
I'm sure all of them were important in their own right, having diligently poured out their younger years in climbing the corporate ladder. I don't mean to sound like I'm looking down on it, but it seemed me a tragedy that there were so many people traveling in odd hours of the night, alone and accompanied only with the latest gadget or clinging to some remnant of community via a cellphone.
I have to admit that traveling for the purposes of business is still very novel to me. I still like to jump on the bed when I first get into my room. I'm amazed at the fairy who makes wet towels, trash and messy covers disappear. But I couldn't imagine doing this for years... sorry to all my auditor and consultant friends. But I digress.
While I was people watching the corporate herd, grazing on airport food and wired on caffeine beverages, I just got an affirmation that this really is a rat race. One of my worst fears is the American dream; house, wife, kids, dog and a sizable retirement. It's not the actual things that it consists of, but more of the attiude that it seems to convey. I'm not sure if I'm just echoing a sermon I heard from John Piper, but the drinking margarita, playing golf and tending a small garden seems like a death not worth the investment. I'm not the most spirited filled person, but this is one part of the corporate life that just isn't very attractive to me.
Don't Waste Your Life
posted by chongo1201 at 12:40 PM
3 Comments:
welcome back to the bay area... i have some mail for you... and i just got "don't waste your life" in the mail last week... just started reading it
drinking margaritas is death? you smokin' crack.
feel you dog. I don't wanna wake up at 40 and be like, 'damn. wtf.'
feel you.
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