A word of warning, this post is going to be a real downer. I said in a previous post that I wouldn't get all serious on you on this blog, but I'm afraid I need to just this once. You see, we recently found out that a dear friend from Mike's childhood has been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer and has been given 3-6 months to live.
Think about that. You feel some pain and don't know exactly what is wrong. You go to the doctor thinking maybe it's your gallbladder. Maybe it's kidney stones. You leave the office knowing that you likely will not live to see Christmas. Now every interaction this guy has is met with sympathy and sadness. A gosh, this may be the last time I see you kind of reception. He has two children. They are 9 and almost 6. What could possibly be going through his head right now?
He and Mike had lost touch over the years, as often happens in life. This is adding to the grief and guilt that Mike is feeling. This guy has had a hard life. He had a hard childhood - family issues, etc., gotten into drugs at one point after high school and during that time, they kind of parted ways. Nothing deliberate, really. Just people whose lives were going in different directions. But Mike is now wishing he'd kept in better touch over the years. Thinking maybe he might've been able to get his friend to go to the doctor sooner. All of this is futile, of course. Life unfolds the way it unfolds.
I never knew his friend until now but had heard a lot about him over the years. Most of Mike's stories from childhood involved this person. He practically lived with Mike's family, they were so close. So, when Mike does get back in touch with him, it?'s after he has learned of his prognosis. There is now no time to reestablish a relationship. Only time to reminisce and say goodbye. It is truly heartbreaking. I have been able to think about little else since we found all of this out. Mike and I are both very sad about it - wondering what he is thinking and how his kids will be affected by it all.
I know that there probably isn't a person out there who hasn't been affected by cancer. This story may not be much different than something you yourself have experienced with a friend or loved one. I'm not asking for you to feel bad for me or Mike. I just need to express my sadness over this and reaffirm a commitment to be a better wife, mother, daughter and friend during the short time I am on this planet. In life, none of us are promised anything after this moment and too often we push things aside or focus on the wrong things (Jersey Shore, anyone?). This is yet another reminder that what is important is that we focus our time and energy on things that matter. On family and friends. And on making sure that the people we care about know exactly how we feel about them.
Earlier this month, I got a chance to meet Mike's friend. He brought his kids over to the lake and spent the afternoon with us and our kids and then with Mike's parents when they came over for supper. What a nice guy. There was a sadness to him that I get the feeling was there all along even prior to the diagnosis. He's a good guy who has kind of a had a bad lot in life. Anyway, he talked with Mike about how he lost his father when he was 10 years old. He said his only real memory of his dad was attending his funeral. His own children will not even be 10 when he leaves them. That knowledge is tearing him up. It tears me up to know that, too. He is scared and he is sad. But he is courageous and resilient. He is coming to grips with this diagnosis he got only a month ago. One month gone already. Only a few more to go.
We all die, of course. (I have a big problem with that I may address with God one day. I probably won't though. It's His call, not mine. I suppose I have to respect it.) But few of us know how much time we have left. And let's be honest, he could live for years. We've all heard stories of these fatal diagnoses and people baffling their physicians by outliving their prognosis. But his cancer is aggressive. The chemo may be able to slow it, but it won't stop it. It's too late for that. He's getting along as best he can knowing that his clock is ticking. And ticking loudly.
A few years ago, we lost a friend and neighbor to an unexpected heart attack at age 37 - what I will be in September. In addition to a husband, she left behind a 5 year old son. At the time, I remember thinking that the only thing worse than losing a child (which I absolutely cannot fathom) would be to leave them and not get the pleasure of seeing who they become. As much as a parent loves a child, you want them to always know that and to feel that. If they don't know you or remember you, they won't. The thought of that scares me to death. I always want my kids to know how much they mean to me and how proud they make me. I have been keeping a journal for a while now that one day I can give it to them so they can read exactly what I was feeling for them as they were growing up. I hate to be morbid, but losing that neighbor is what made me decide to do that - just in case I'm not here to tell them myself. And I am also going to be more deliberate about telling my husband, parents, siblings and friends how I feel about them. I want them to know the joy and happiness they have brought into my life.
So, over these next few months, we will keep in contact with Mike's friend and will make opportunities to spend some time with him and his kids. I will continue to pray for him. Continue to cry for him and his children. I will marvel at the grace with which he is approaching his final days in the face of such physical and emotional pain. And, although he will only be in my life for a short period of time, I will be forever changed by the effect he has had on it.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Progress
Since I am completely devoid of creativity, I thought I'd revisit an old post as inspiration for this one. As you may recall, I set some lofty goals for myself when I came up with some new year's resolutions. I decided to take a look at those and see how many - if any - I have actually kept. Sound fun? Probably not, but it might make you feel better about your own lack of drive and/or willpower. Those that I did not complete successfully, I have no one to blame for than myself as you will see. Here goes:
1. I will make Meg’s scrapbook detailing the events and milestones in her first year of life. (Meg turned 2 in October)
Update - I remember setting this goal. At the time, I considered saying it would be completed by March. Thank heavens I left that part off. Earlier in the year, I enlarged some pictures and sent them to the local Walmart where I would retrieve them and then have what I needed to make her book. However, we changed computers (Went from a Mac to a PC despite all of those clever commercials that let you know what a fool you'd be if you did that) and we STILL have not been able to successfully transfer pictures from I-Photo to whatever it is I have on this HP. I have asked Mike to help figure this out multiple times. He has not. So, I snagged some pictures from Facebook and had those enlarged to fuzzy, disastrous results. I couldn't very well use blurry pictures for my beloved child's scrapbook. SO, delay. But clearly I've done my part. Mike is the one who let me down on this one. I cannot move forward until he fixes the photo problem.
Prognosis - Unmet but still possible. If Mike Will actually get off his rear end and DO somehting...
2. I will limit sweets to weekends, holidays, birthdays, other celebrations...
Update - Well, considering I am eating sugar cookie dough while typing this, no progress. I wouldn't be eating them, of course, if Mike hadn't bought them. Once again, he messes up any chance I have at success!
Prognosis - Not reachable. A stupid resolution to begin with. I should have known better.
3. I will do a better job of not cursing in front of my children.
Update - How in the hell (eek!) am I supposed to quit cursing when f@!king (yow!) people keep doing sh*t (oops!) to piss (ack!) me off?
Prognosis - unf@!kingreachable.
4. I will keep my car neat and tidy (but not necessarily clean).
Update - Well, the "not clean" part is right on target. The rest of it, this "neat" and "tidy" nonsense, is a no-go. My car is more disgusting than ever. I mean, sure, it's dirty. Bug carcasses on top of bug carcasses. Bird poop on the windshield that has been smeared by a failed attempt to get it off with the wipers. But the inside of the car... that's the real horror story. Petrified french fries. Dust all over the dashboard so deep I cannot even see the odometer. Chicken nugget-breading and colorful nerds wedged so deep into the crevices of the carseats that I'm surprised the government hasn't intervened. It's foul and I don't see any hope of improvement. I'm sure this one is Mike's fault, too.
Prognosis - Not reachable. Unless my children's health becomes affected. Then I'll have to do something.
5. I will do a better job of sending thank you notes.
Update - Well, let's see. Our dear friend Lynda came and took pictures of my girls -FOR FREE - and gave me all of the proofs. No note. Mike's cousin gave me a really cool pottery piece that's a chip and dip server. No note. My sister had us in town for New Year's AND gave my daughter very sweet and thoughtful birthday gifts. No note. Of course, anything I do for her, she sends a timely and thoughtful thank you note.
I swear I think she makes things for my kids just to point out what a crappy person I am for never sending notes. She makes me feel really bad about that with her smug way of always being kind and thoughtful. She always sends Lynda a thank you note I'm sure. How am I supposed to compete with that? If we are comparing me to her, I will always lose. It's so defeating. I'm too busy being defeated to be able to find the time or the energy to write a thank you note.
Prognosis - My sister makes it all but impossible for me to accomplish this one.
6. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE??!! WHAT WAS I THINKING? I will stop complaining so much.
Update - Well, how would you know if I've accomplished this one? All I said was that I'd stop doing it so much. You have no way of knowing how many times I would have done it were it not for the setting of this resolution. Therefore...
Prognosis - I'm accomplishing the crap out of this one.
7. I will be more patient with my children.
Update - I was laughing as I typed that back in January and I am laughing now. My children aren't laughing though. They are crying because I've just completely lost it with them over something trivial. *Sigh* But, really, if they were better children, I wouldn't have to lose patience with them. Clearly this one is their fault.
Prognosis - Still laughing...
8. I will be healthier.
Update - Okay, FINALLY one about which I can give you some good news! I have recently decided to actually pursue this one. The first half of the year was an exercise in gluttony. I ate whatever I wanted (which was mostly junky foods) and in enormous portions. To be honest, I don't remember the last time my stomach growled. I was never hungry because I was always either full or eating. I began to see pictures of myself (Damn my friends for tagging me in them on Facebook!) and realized that although I certainly looked like it, I was, in fact, not 13 months pregnant. I was, in truth, heavier than I had ever been without being pregnant.
I felt horrible in my bathing suit with my generous gobs of flesh spilling over the sides. My legs were doing that thing where they touch at the very tops of my thighs. I HATE that. In all honesty, my legs are shaped like that and will probably do it even when I'm down to my ideal weight. But, it was so bad that anytime I was in a skirt, I would have to waddle so they wouldn't rub together and chafe. Eek!
I was also tired all of the time because of all of the junk I was eating. We were going out to eat a lot because I was too lazy to cook anything reasonably healthy. So, about four weeks ago I decided I had had enough - just in time for the results to be obvious in the fall when no one would notice.... But, I am happy to report, my legs are looking better; more toned. And I have lost a few pounds. I am also back to being able to run almost three miles without stopping - a tremendous feat given the amount of time I have neglected my treadmill duties. Yay me!
Prognosis - If I keep it up, reachable. But I have to admit, it's a struggle for me.
9. I will not be so happy being frumpy and lazy.
Update and prognosis - But I am really, REALLY happy being frumpy and lazy!!
This one was actually originally written from the perspective of what my husband frequently comes home to - a tired, lazy sweatpants and a raggedy t-shirt or jammies-wearin' vision. This one has actually gotten a little better since I have rediscovered a will to be healthy. But the trade-off is that now instead of me being in my jammies when he comes home from work, I'm in my more hideous "workout" ensemble and covered in sweat and stench. Probably not much better, but hopefully after a shower, he's more pleased with what he sees.
Mercy, revisiting that list was exhausting! and i am really annoyed with all of the people who are preventing me from meeting with success as I pursue these objectives. Why on earth would I set so many goals for myself? I should have known better than to try and tackle all of the areas of my life where I am failing. Surely one or two would have been enough. And since it was so exhausting, I have clearly had my workout for the day.
Maybe I should go on and retire to the couch with a big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. I've got a lot of cursing and complaining yet to do today...
1. I will make Meg’s scrapbook detailing the events and milestones in her first year of life. (Meg turned 2 in October)
Update - I remember setting this goal. At the time, I considered saying it would be completed by March. Thank heavens I left that part off. Earlier in the year, I enlarged some pictures and sent them to the local Walmart where I would retrieve them and then have what I needed to make her book. However, we changed computers (Went from a Mac to a PC despite all of those clever commercials that let you know what a fool you'd be if you did that) and we STILL have not been able to successfully transfer pictures from I-Photo to whatever it is I have on this HP. I have asked Mike to help figure this out multiple times. He has not. So, I snagged some pictures from Facebook and had those enlarged to fuzzy, disastrous results. I couldn't very well use blurry pictures for my beloved child's scrapbook. SO, delay. But clearly I've done my part. Mike is the one who let me down on this one. I cannot move forward until he fixes the photo problem.
Prognosis - Unmet but still possible. If Mike Will actually get off his rear end and DO somehting...
2. I will limit sweets to weekends, holidays, birthdays, other celebrations...
Update - Well, considering I am eating sugar cookie dough while typing this, no progress. I wouldn't be eating them, of course, if Mike hadn't bought them. Once again, he messes up any chance I have at success!
Prognosis - Not reachable. A stupid resolution to begin with. I should have known better.
3. I will do a better job of not cursing in front of my children.
Update - How in the hell (eek!) am I supposed to quit cursing when f@!king (yow!) people keep doing sh*t (oops!) to piss (ack!) me off?
Prognosis - unf@!kingreachable.
4. I will keep my car neat and tidy (but not necessarily clean).
Update - Well, the "not clean" part is right on target. The rest of it, this "neat" and "tidy" nonsense, is a no-go. My car is more disgusting than ever. I mean, sure, it's dirty. Bug carcasses on top of bug carcasses. Bird poop on the windshield that has been smeared by a failed attempt to get it off with the wipers. But the inside of the car... that's the real horror story. Petrified french fries. Dust all over the dashboard so deep I cannot even see the odometer. Chicken nugget-breading and colorful nerds wedged so deep into the crevices of the carseats that I'm surprised the government hasn't intervened. It's foul and I don't see any hope of improvement. I'm sure this one is Mike's fault, too.
Prognosis - Not reachable. Unless my children's health becomes affected. Then I'll have to do something.
5. I will do a better job of sending thank you notes.
Update - Well, let's see. Our dear friend Lynda came and took pictures of my girls -FOR FREE - and gave me all of the proofs. No note. Mike's cousin gave me a really cool pottery piece that's a chip and dip server. No note. My sister had us in town for New Year's AND gave my daughter very sweet and thoughtful birthday gifts. No note. Of course, anything I do for her, she sends a timely and thoughtful thank you note.
I swear I think she makes things for my kids just to point out what a crappy person I am for never sending notes. She makes me feel really bad about that with her smug way of always being kind and thoughtful. She always sends Lynda a thank you note I'm sure. How am I supposed to compete with that? If we are comparing me to her, I will always lose. It's so defeating. I'm too busy being defeated to be able to find the time or the energy to write a thank you note.
Prognosis - My sister makes it all but impossible for me to accomplish this one.
6. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE??!! WHAT WAS I THINKING? I will stop complaining so much.
Update - Well, how would you know if I've accomplished this one? All I said was that I'd stop doing it so much. You have no way of knowing how many times I would have done it were it not for the setting of this resolution. Therefore...
Prognosis - I'm accomplishing the crap out of this one.
7. I will be more patient with my children.
Update - I was laughing as I typed that back in January and I am laughing now. My children aren't laughing though. They are crying because I've just completely lost it with them over something trivial. *Sigh* But, really, if they were better children, I wouldn't have to lose patience with them. Clearly this one is their fault.
Prognosis - Still laughing...
8. I will be healthier.
Update - Okay, FINALLY one about which I can give you some good news! I have recently decided to actually pursue this one. The first half of the year was an exercise in gluttony. I ate whatever I wanted (which was mostly junky foods) and in enormous portions. To be honest, I don't remember the last time my stomach growled. I was never hungry because I was always either full or eating. I began to see pictures of myself (Damn my friends for tagging me in them on Facebook!) and realized that although I certainly looked like it, I was, in fact, not 13 months pregnant. I was, in truth, heavier than I had ever been without being pregnant.
I felt horrible in my bathing suit with my generous gobs of flesh spilling over the sides. My legs were doing that thing where they touch at the very tops of my thighs. I HATE that. In all honesty, my legs are shaped like that and will probably do it even when I'm down to my ideal weight. But, it was so bad that anytime I was in a skirt, I would have to waddle so they wouldn't rub together and chafe. Eek!
I was also tired all of the time because of all of the junk I was eating. We were going out to eat a lot because I was too lazy to cook anything reasonably healthy. So, about four weeks ago I decided I had had enough - just in time for the results to be obvious in the fall when no one would notice.... But, I am happy to report, my legs are looking better; more toned. And I have lost a few pounds. I am also back to being able to run almost three miles without stopping - a tremendous feat given the amount of time I have neglected my treadmill duties. Yay me!
Prognosis - If I keep it up, reachable. But I have to admit, it's a struggle for me.
9. I will not be so happy being frumpy and lazy.
Update and prognosis - But I am really, REALLY happy being frumpy and lazy!!
This one was actually originally written from the perspective of what my husband frequently comes home to - a tired, lazy sweatpants and a raggedy t-shirt or jammies-wearin' vision. This one has actually gotten a little better since I have rediscovered a will to be healthy. But the trade-off is that now instead of me being in my jammies when he comes home from work, I'm in my more hideous "workout" ensemble and covered in sweat and stench. Probably not much better, but hopefully after a shower, he's more pleased with what he sees.
Mercy, revisiting that list was exhausting! and i am really annoyed with all of the people who are preventing me from meeting with success as I pursue these objectives. Why on earth would I set so many goals for myself? I should have known better than to try and tackle all of the areas of my life where I am failing. Surely one or two would have been enough. And since it was so exhausting, I have clearly had my workout for the day.
Maybe I should go on and retire to the couch with a big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. I've got a lot of cursing and complaining yet to do today...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The real measure of your wealth is how much you'd be worth if you lost all your money. ~Author Unknown
I saw a report a few days ago in which, once divorced from Tiger Woods, Elin Nordegren would receive $750 million. That is not a typo. $750 MILLION.
I get that he was a cad. I get that he publicly humiliated her. I get that he probably exposed her to Chlamydia and scores of other STDs (have you seen some of the girls he cheated with??). I get that he completely ripped their family apart. But $750 million? Was it really worth that much money?
Think of all the perks she had being married to him. He’s a superstar. He was once beloved (and likely will be again the first time he blows everyone away on the course). Sure, it must have been hell for her marriage to end the way it did, but wouldn’t – and I’m just throwing this out there - $28 million have been enough? How about $50 million? No? What about $100 million? Surely that would suffice.
What on earth will she do with $750 million?
Here is the part of the story where I tell you what I would do.
First, I would give tax-free gifts to my family and close friends. I’m not sure what the laws allow you to give, but I’d like to be able to share my good fortune with those around me. My motives, however, are not entirely pure. I mean, yes, I would want to be able to help them financially (those poor, ingrates who do not have the millions of dollars that I do). But also, by giving them some of my wealth, I eliminate the inevitable problems associated with suddenly being rich.
Here’s what I figure: If I’ve got $750 million, and I go to lunch with a group of friends, they will expect me to pay. "She’s got $750 million. Why should we pay?” However, if I go to lunch with these people and offer to pay, it becomes, “Oh, I guess we’re too poor to buy our own lunch. Not everyone has $750 million, you know…” People begin to resent what you have. It becomes a burden and you begin to doubt if people really like you for you (the real person you were before you were buried under all of that money) or if they just want your money. If you are already sharing the wealth with your loved ones, these awkward encounters are not as likely.
Second, I would buy a beach house. Doesn’t have to be too fancy – maybe in the $15-20 million range. You know, modest. Understated. It would be big enough for my extended family to all be there together but not so big that you’d never see the people in the next bedroom. I might also buy the houses next to it, so multiple families/friends could stay. And the beach would most likely be Hilton Head. It’s nice. It’s convenient. I am a creature of habit and already know my way around. It’s already kind of a home away from home, so why not own an enormous house there?
I’d also buy a house on Nantucket. I’ve never been there, but I hear it is very quaint, very private, and very expensive. Expensive is no longer a problem, remember. I have $750 million at my disposal. I should also buy a house in Vail or Aspen or somewhere like that.
We already have a lake house, so there’s no need to buy that. It is very, VERY small but very cozy. I love it. It is the perfect getaway – relaxing, nice views. It is so small that you have no choice but to spend time together as a family. You’re practically on top of each other. It’s perfect the way it is today. A great place for our family to have many summers making terrific memories. Anyway, once I had my millions, I’d bulldoze it to the ground and start all over. Nothing too fancy, it should be rustic since it’s on the lake. So, it would be shabby chic. More in the $3 million range. (I’m not flashy, for heaven’s sake!)
I’d travel a lot, I guess, but mainly just going from beach locale to beach locale. Mike would want to go to Europe and Asia and boring places like that so I’d do that too, but I would also go to every exotic beach on the map. I may even buy an island while I’m there. Who knows.
I don’t like to fly, so traveling will have to be dealt with carefully. Actually, that’s not true. I HATE to fly. It scares me to death. I feel like being in the air is extremely unnatural and that the whole time we’re up there, the pilot is fighting off the plane’s urge to crash. So, I would have to buy a plane (obviously) and put a very experienced pilot – and co-pilot (in case the pilot dies mid-flight – which could happen!) on my payroll. It would be a commercial jet, renovated to look like a private, chartered jet. I would choose commercial because they don’t crash as often as those private planes. There are reports all the time of entire families or entire management teams going down in a private plane. Commercial would be the way to go, but I’d still want the luxury of a private plane. Actually, I would have a plane like Air Force 1. They make those planes practically indestructible. And it goes without saying that there must be alcohol on board so I can be out of my mind for the duration of the flight. Alcohol would be an absolut must. “Absolut” – get it? My money has started to make me clever…
I would most certainly employ a full-time chef who could cook scrumptious yet healthy meals for me and my family. I would have a masseuse come to the house weekly (daily seems too gauche). I would also have a personal trainer who works with me at least 4 days a week. There would no longer be any excuse for not being in good shape. I would have a hair and make-up person like celebrities do. Have you ever noticed the “Stars Without Make-Up” editions of supermarket tabloids? Those people are HIDEOUS! They have people who know how to work hair and make-up to each person’s advantage. That’s what I need. I don’t think I want plastic surgery – I just want to make the most of what I have. A team of personal stylists should do the trick.
Also, being a multi, multi-millionaire, I would assume I’d have access to top-name talent. I’d fly in Emmylou Harris, Paul Simon, Jimmy Buffett and other favorites to entertain me at dinnertime, special occasions, etc. I’d also have an elaborate movie theatre in my home and buy the rights (or whatever it is you have to do) to see all of the new releases from the comfort of my big, comfy, expensive couch. I’d need servers, of course, to be there when my bucket of popcorn runs low. If I could avoid going to the theatre and being annoyed by all of the talking, cell phones and other interruptions, my movie-going experience would be much more pleasant. Better yet, with that kind of money, I could just pay the actors to come to my house and act the whole thing out.
I do think I would get very tired of having access to everything I ever wanted under the sun. Those things would all be great, and I would finally be smokin’ hot – which I have always felt I was meant to be – but I’d have to do something. Not a job, of course. What are you going to do, pay me $50k a year? That’s pocket change to me now. I’d have to do something worthwhile. Something charitable.
I know I’d give millions to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, the American Cancer Society and the Humane Society. I think I’d get the most enjoyment, though, out of doing things like Oprah does – random acts of kindness for lack of a better, less nauseating, term. I’d like to find people in the community who need help and be able to help them. Be it put them in a new home, pay off medical expenses, send an ill person on the vacation of a lifetime, or pay funeral expenses for families who can’t afford them. Those kinds of things. And I would do it anonymously (although who else in the world, other than Elin, has $750 million and the means to do this?). It would be simple acts of kindness and people don’t show enough of that these days.
I would probably have to start a foundation or two. “The Maggie McCallie Charitable Something-or-other” has a nice ring to it. I’m not sure what all of my causes would be just yet, but I do know of one – I don’t think any person should have to pay to put a beloved pet to sleep. I’d establish some kind of foundation so that euthanizations would be paid for.
So that’s all of the things I would do with such an enormous amount of money. Let me tell you what I would not do:
I would not have a list of demands like a lot of celebrities do like –
I have to have my ice water chilled to a crisp 48 degrees and served to me in a champagne glass.
Or,
No one can look me directly in the eye until after 10:30 a.m.
Or,
I have to have total silence as I walk through an airport.
Or,
Each steak I eat must be cut into 11 equally sized bites.
Egomaniacal celebrities demand unreasonable things like that as though the rest of the world exists only to cater to them. It’s ridiculous and I would not expect or accept special treatment. If I go out to eat, I’ll wait in line like everyone else. Wait a minute – I have $750 million – I’m only going to eat at places where reservations are required! But, hypothetically, if I went to one of these restaurants, I would wait in line like everyone else because the money makes me no better a person than the next guy.
I would also not behave like these vapid socialites we see on TV and in the tabloids. In other words, I wouldn’t turn into a Real Housewife of Chattanooga. I would keep my public drinking under control and always remember to wear underwear – especially when exiting a vehicle with teams of photographers around. I wouldn’t be any dumber than I am now and I wouldn’t try to act dumber than I already do. The people I am referring to seem to celebrate insipid behavior. I would at least try to appear to be deserving of the wonderful fortune that I was lucky enough to have.
The funny thing is, I could do all of the things above – the homes, the servants, the planes, the foundations - and still never go through $750 million. And truly, what is $750 million REALLY if you don’t have anyone to share it with? Seriously. Yes, that much money could buy some measure of happiness. But if I don’t have my family and friends and good times and even the tough-times-that-suck-at-the-time-but-actually-do-make-us-better-and-stronger, then the money is meaningless. I’m not saying Elin needs Tiger to be happy, but she does need love.
I’m happy I have it even if I don’t have the $750 million.
Now, I do believe I have a lot of love in my life. And a faithful and good husband. BUT, if he cheats with even one woman, I’m taking his money and buying a big, fat beach house.
I get that he was a cad. I get that he publicly humiliated her. I get that he probably exposed her to Chlamydia and scores of other STDs (have you seen some of the girls he cheated with??). I get that he completely ripped their family apart. But $750 million? Was it really worth that much money?
Think of all the perks she had being married to him. He’s a superstar. He was once beloved (and likely will be again the first time he blows everyone away on the course). Sure, it must have been hell for her marriage to end the way it did, but wouldn’t – and I’m just throwing this out there - $28 million have been enough? How about $50 million? No? What about $100 million? Surely that would suffice.
What on earth will she do with $750 million?
Here is the part of the story where I tell you what I would do.
First, I would give tax-free gifts to my family and close friends. I’m not sure what the laws allow you to give, but I’d like to be able to share my good fortune with those around me. My motives, however, are not entirely pure. I mean, yes, I would want to be able to help them financially (those poor, ingrates who do not have the millions of dollars that I do). But also, by giving them some of my wealth, I eliminate the inevitable problems associated with suddenly being rich.
Here’s what I figure: If I’ve got $750 million, and I go to lunch with a group of friends, they will expect me to pay. "She’s got $750 million. Why should we pay?” However, if I go to lunch with these people and offer to pay, it becomes, “Oh, I guess we’re too poor to buy our own lunch. Not everyone has $750 million, you know…” People begin to resent what you have. It becomes a burden and you begin to doubt if people really like you for you (the real person you were before you were buried under all of that money) or if they just want your money. If you are already sharing the wealth with your loved ones, these awkward encounters are not as likely.
Second, I would buy a beach house. Doesn’t have to be too fancy – maybe in the $15-20 million range. You know, modest. Understated. It would be big enough for my extended family to all be there together but not so big that you’d never see the people in the next bedroom. I might also buy the houses next to it, so multiple families/friends could stay. And the beach would most likely be Hilton Head. It’s nice. It’s convenient. I am a creature of habit and already know my way around. It’s already kind of a home away from home, so why not own an enormous house there?
I’d also buy a house on Nantucket. I’ve never been there, but I hear it is very quaint, very private, and very expensive. Expensive is no longer a problem, remember. I have $750 million at my disposal. I should also buy a house in Vail or Aspen or somewhere like that.
We already have a lake house, so there’s no need to buy that. It is very, VERY small but very cozy. I love it. It is the perfect getaway – relaxing, nice views. It is so small that you have no choice but to spend time together as a family. You’re practically on top of each other. It’s perfect the way it is today. A great place for our family to have many summers making terrific memories. Anyway, once I had my millions, I’d bulldoze it to the ground and start all over. Nothing too fancy, it should be rustic since it’s on the lake. So, it would be shabby chic. More in the $3 million range. (I’m not flashy, for heaven’s sake!)
I’d travel a lot, I guess, but mainly just going from beach locale to beach locale. Mike would want to go to Europe and Asia and boring places like that so I’d do that too, but I would also go to every exotic beach on the map. I may even buy an island while I’m there. Who knows.
I don’t like to fly, so traveling will have to be dealt with carefully. Actually, that’s not true. I HATE to fly. It scares me to death. I feel like being in the air is extremely unnatural and that the whole time we’re up there, the pilot is fighting off the plane’s urge to crash. So, I would have to buy a plane (obviously) and put a very experienced pilot – and co-pilot (in case the pilot dies mid-flight – which could happen!) on my payroll. It would be a commercial jet, renovated to look like a private, chartered jet. I would choose commercial because they don’t crash as often as those private planes. There are reports all the time of entire families or entire management teams going down in a private plane. Commercial would be the way to go, but I’d still want the luxury of a private plane. Actually, I would have a plane like Air Force 1. They make those planes practically indestructible. And it goes without saying that there must be alcohol on board so I can be out of my mind for the duration of the flight. Alcohol would be an absolut must. “Absolut” – get it? My money has started to make me clever…
I would most certainly employ a full-time chef who could cook scrumptious yet healthy meals for me and my family. I would have a masseuse come to the house weekly (daily seems too gauche). I would also have a personal trainer who works with me at least 4 days a week. There would no longer be any excuse for not being in good shape. I would have a hair and make-up person like celebrities do. Have you ever noticed the “Stars Without Make-Up” editions of supermarket tabloids? Those people are HIDEOUS! They have people who know how to work hair and make-up to each person’s advantage. That’s what I need. I don’t think I want plastic surgery – I just want to make the most of what I have. A team of personal stylists should do the trick.
Also, being a multi, multi-millionaire, I would assume I’d have access to top-name talent. I’d fly in Emmylou Harris, Paul Simon, Jimmy Buffett and other favorites to entertain me at dinnertime, special occasions, etc. I’d also have an elaborate movie theatre in my home and buy the rights (or whatever it is you have to do) to see all of the new releases from the comfort of my big, comfy, expensive couch. I’d need servers, of course, to be there when my bucket of popcorn runs low. If I could avoid going to the theatre and being annoyed by all of the talking, cell phones and other interruptions, my movie-going experience would be much more pleasant. Better yet, with that kind of money, I could just pay the actors to come to my house and act the whole thing out.
I do think I would get very tired of having access to everything I ever wanted under the sun. Those things would all be great, and I would finally be smokin’ hot – which I have always felt I was meant to be – but I’d have to do something. Not a job, of course. What are you going to do, pay me $50k a year? That’s pocket change to me now. I’d have to do something worthwhile. Something charitable.
I know I’d give millions to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, the American Cancer Society and the Humane Society. I think I’d get the most enjoyment, though, out of doing things like Oprah does – random acts of kindness for lack of a better, less nauseating, term. I’d like to find people in the community who need help and be able to help them. Be it put them in a new home, pay off medical expenses, send an ill person on the vacation of a lifetime, or pay funeral expenses for families who can’t afford them. Those kinds of things. And I would do it anonymously (although who else in the world, other than Elin, has $750 million and the means to do this?). It would be simple acts of kindness and people don’t show enough of that these days.
I would probably have to start a foundation or two. “The Maggie McCallie Charitable Something-or-other” has a nice ring to it. I’m not sure what all of my causes would be just yet, but I do know of one – I don’t think any person should have to pay to put a beloved pet to sleep. I’d establish some kind of foundation so that euthanizations would be paid for.
So that’s all of the things I would do with such an enormous amount of money. Let me tell you what I would not do:
I would not have a list of demands like a lot of celebrities do like –
I have to have my ice water chilled to a crisp 48 degrees and served to me in a champagne glass.
Or,
No one can look me directly in the eye until after 10:30 a.m.
Or,
I have to have total silence as I walk through an airport.
Or,
Each steak I eat must be cut into 11 equally sized bites.
Egomaniacal celebrities demand unreasonable things like that as though the rest of the world exists only to cater to them. It’s ridiculous and I would not expect or accept special treatment. If I go out to eat, I’ll wait in line like everyone else. Wait a minute – I have $750 million – I’m only going to eat at places where reservations are required! But, hypothetically, if I went to one of these restaurants, I would wait in line like everyone else because the money makes me no better a person than the next guy.
I would also not behave like these vapid socialites we see on TV and in the tabloids. In other words, I wouldn’t turn into a Real Housewife of Chattanooga. I would keep my public drinking under control and always remember to wear underwear – especially when exiting a vehicle with teams of photographers around. I wouldn’t be any dumber than I am now and I wouldn’t try to act dumber than I already do. The people I am referring to seem to celebrate insipid behavior. I would at least try to appear to be deserving of the wonderful fortune that I was lucky enough to have.
The funny thing is, I could do all of the things above – the homes, the servants, the planes, the foundations - and still never go through $750 million. And truly, what is $750 million REALLY if you don’t have anyone to share it with? Seriously. Yes, that much money could buy some measure of happiness. But if I don’t have my family and friends and good times and even the tough-times-that-suck-at-the-time-but-actually-do-make-us-better-and-stronger, then the money is meaningless. I’m not saying Elin needs Tiger to be happy, but she does need love.
I’m happy I have it even if I don’t have the $750 million.
Now, I do believe I have a lot of love in my life. And a faithful and good husband. BUT, if he cheats with even one woman, I’m taking his money and buying a big, fat beach house.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)