by notesfromachair

The Odds

Confusion is both underrated and overrated. I, for one, like clarity. I want to know what I’m up against, the potential minefields in my path and all possible modes of action to be employed in order to avoid total disaster. Pessimist? I like to think of myself a prepare–a-tist.

For instance, when I was a reporter I was always as thoroughly prepared as possible prior to interviewing a subject. Cover an obscenity trial in my twenties? Sure, no problem. Let me look up some past cases AND see if anyone knows information about the presiding judge. This took more effort than you can imagine in the late 1970s – those halcyon days prior to the Google. You actually had to go to the library, makes calls and – perish the thought – talk to people IN PERSON.

The horror!!

In the 21^st century it’s a lot easier to be forearmed but the problem is there’s so much information that it becomes overwhelming and occasionally counterproductive. I mean, how is it when you discover a stray sore or a relative gets sick you manage to find thousands of horrific anecdotes on the web (Note: and certainly Web MD) that exactly diagnosis you or your relative’s now clearly terminal symptoms? Can a pimple be a tumor? Most certainly! But you can also get hit by a car while crossing the street. Or die crossing the street because those piano movers on the 5^th floor above you who had fried food for lunch forgot to wash their hands prior to the transport, thus causing their baby Grand in that moment to slide through their fingers and hit you square in the head. Now you’re more dead than Road Runner because life is not a cartoon – only your death.

Okay, clearly I’m also not an optimist. I will concede that.

I’m pretty much always the B

But let’s make this bigger than myself. There are many world life circumstances where too much clarity can also be a bad thing. Do we all really want know the ins and outs of the financial system and every potential at-risk territory in the Middle East, not to mention terror threat? Even as I write this and you read it our collective brains are exploding. Perhaps that’s reason enough for the rise of the Orange Clown. (Note: #Drumpf #Trump #Harrumph). Well, there has to be some reason and that one’s as good – or as bad – as any, right?My 87-year old-Dad underwent an angioplasty procedure this weekend. His answer when I ask him how things are the last few years is always – “Great! I got up today!” An inveterate gambler, he measures everything by the odds and bases those odds not only on stuff he’s read (though rarely on the web) but seen, experienced, heard about or overheard. In other words, in his own way he too researches. So when the doctor beforehand told him there was only approximately a 1% chance of anything going wrong with his upcoming procedure his immediate response was “I like those odds!” and he decided to take them and go through with it.

Injecting a little humor along the way

And hopefully it proved correct. His heart was substantially blocked, as it turned out, and is now unblocked – and the procedure was minimal. Though he’s still a bit loopy from the meds and that’s a bit scary – especially after I went on the web to look at worst case scenario possibilities, which included loopiness that might not go away all that soon. Which is sort of how this train of thought here today got started. Because his current confusion made me wonder – was I not clear enough before this all started about what all his possible outcomes were if we went ahead with the “procedure?” (Note: What a ridiculous word – as if it’s a courtroom, or worse yet, Congress). What were the alternate choices he or I might have taken? Well, doing nothing about his heart would have likely been fatal. Still – the present isn’t totally ideal either. Though even in his current confusion he knows who we all are and they tell us the meds (and their after effects) will soon wear off.

Certainly, that’s not good enough for me – pessimist and glass half empty person that I am.

And yet – I was encouraged by one small development this afternoon – less than 24 hours since the – um – fateful “procedure.”

On with the show

We’re in his room watching Turner Class Movies – his favorite – and what better movie to be on than the original The Hustler starring Paul Newman as aspiring pool hustler Fast Eddie Felson and Jackie Gleason as legendary pool shark Minnesota Fats – battling each other to their financial and psychological deaths. Not only was it about gambling but my Dad used to shoot pool as a teenager and then later, all through his life. How clearly perfect!

Or was it?

We’re watching the movie and he seems to be into it. We talk about the cast and he nods, acknowledges how young Mr. Newman was after we bring up his mind. And yet, something feels off, confused. Which is then verified by him saying – that’s Jake LaMotta.

Well, my heart sank.

No Dad, Jake LaMotta is from another sports movie, Raging Bull. And he was played by Robert DeNiro. But let’s look it up and see who else is in this movie.

See, I’m thinking if I can get him talking, it – or some of it – will all come back.

Except then I go on IMDB and come up with the cast list, Yeah, Newman, Gleason, Piper Laurie as the girl. Then there are character actors Vincent Gardenia and Michael Constantine, followed by – what’s this?? JAKE LaMOTTA?

He acted??? And in THIS movie?

So I look it up and I see clearer than the most clear L.A. day:

Bartender…..Jake LaMotta.

Lo and behold!

Dad, did you mean Jake LaMotta was the bartender? Uh yeah.

Which leads me to believe confusion is relative and clarity is merely a concept we tell ourselves in an effort to be prepared for the things we should be.

It also reluctantly taught me yet again – for the 20^th time – every so often father DOES know best. Especially when I came back later in the day and he was a bit more normal. Not only did he remember everything about the movie The Hustler, what hospital he was in and the “procedure” he had received the previous evening – he had no memory of the first conversation I had with him just hours ago when he was still loopy on the meds about Jake LaMotta and The Hustler.

Just like him to not remember something we clearly spoke about that worried me.

No confusion there. That much I’m clear about.

05.01.16

by notesfromachair

Embarrassment of Riches

I’ve met a few billionaires over the years. Let’s say five or under. And in case you were wondering – no, Oprah was not one of them. Though we were in the same room two of three times. Which I don’t count so much as meeting but being in the presence of her royal greatness. Yeah, I miss her and long for those simpler times when a Black woman from a poor background could try to enable the world to strive for their better selves. Rather than the present when it seems we have exactly the opposite.

Oh how I miss her

Anyway, I only considered one of the billionaires I’ve met to be a truly happy person whose values were similar to mine and who, if push came to shove, I might even consider for U.S. president. This person’s moral compass was such that he judged people not by how much money they were making or had by accident of birth – or what possible connection or DEAL they could bring into HIS WORLD – but rather by their broader views on life. In other words, this person often hung out with and sought the company of poor people – meaning YOU AND I.

Don’t get me wrong. YOU AND I does not necessarily mean those on the poverty level but individuals who make between $50,000-$250,000 per year. As well as others who make a little more (let’s say up to $1,000,000) and even a few who make much more (up to perhaps even $5,000,000).

By my calculations… that would the 99%

Heck, there might have been a few here and there on the other end who made even less than the $50,000 cut-off – individuals whom he actually knew fairly well or were friends with those mentioned above and attended the many and varied social functions held at this person’s home. Some of these gatherings were casual, some were to raise money but quite often there were individuals of all shapes, sizes, ages (yeah, even children among the adults, can you imagine?) as well as incomes.

Certainly there was a respectable amount of multimillionaires and above but to watch this man walk around the room and actually listen to others as they shared their views of the world and he, in turn, revealed his with equal enthusiasm – was a genuine sight to see. He didn’t have handlers. There was sincerity in his body language and dialogue. When he engaged he looked into the eyes of the person he was engaged with rather than trying to clandestinely glance to or service what he perceived to be the more advantageous prey at his party.

Yes, he was the billionaire unicorn

I know all of the above to be so because some weeks after one of his parties about a decade and a half ago, this person accepted a dinner invitation to my humble abode. Incomes for writers fluctuate greatly and let’s say it was absolutely one of my leaner years. But show up for the very small gathering he did – engaged, joyous and happy to be there. I kept thinking — this person has given away more money than I will make in 10 lifetimes – and that’s being very generous to me. Why is he sitting in this funky bottom floor duplex apartment with worn, thin wood floors in desperate need of sanding when he could be luxuriating in several of his own luxurious homes? Or be chowing down in a five star hotel or restaurant with other power brokers or wheelers and dealers? Or better yet, charter his own private jet and fly him or his party of choice to Rome, Paris, Athens or, say, even… Palm Beach, Florida?

… in a home that probably looks something like this

The simple answer is that this person wanted to be at my house. And not because he was slumming – or even running for office. The money was nice but it didn’t define him. He had his own foundation, still worked at his chosen profession, and continued to make and give away millions of dollars. But the money, the wealth and the privilege were not his brand. His personhood was who he was. And the corporations he owned was not this person. He was.

This man forever changed my perception of the uber-wealthy and shook up my views of just how one begins to navigate success and failure, poverty and riches. It’s all in the game of how you perceive yourself and engage in the world. Is one lesser than, better than or, at the end of the day, on equal footing with others despite society’s too numerous to count measures and scales?

I can’t really fault that logic

To put it more simply — can you be a leader without being superior. Is there a way to win at what you do without inciting the hatred of your supporters for the other side and inciting them to moral and physical violence? If business really is a cutthroat and cruel arena where any actions can be forgiven because it’s not personal, how could it be that this particular person rose to the top of his, and then some, without doing any of it?

Well, perhaps he just got lucky. Or is an anomaly. Or secretly did just that and covered it up? No. He was just a guy with a lot of ideas and an inner belief in the world and in himself. In that order. Rather than vice-versa. He didn’t think so much about of making him or his company #1. He instead created a product and systems that facilitated connection – rather than alienation.

I’m starting to feel like this person might own a lot of hooded sweatshirts… but no. #keepguessing

In the hours I spent with this person all that time ago he spoke a lot about wanting to continue to take what he had and use it to restore the environment to its natural state so it could be enjoyed by as many people as possible despite their means

This person loved the land and owned a lot of it – and I mean more PRIMO acreage in the most desire spots in both our urban and rural landscapes than you can imagine; and made sure that upon his death the state and federal government will take over such lands and keep and preserve them in perpetuity to their natural green habitats. The final part of the DEAL is that these lands will be open to the public to peruse and enjoy.

Channeling my inner Maria Von Trapp

In other words, this land will not be developed into steel and concrete versions of mini-adult Disneylands that many of this man’s many, many friends could afford or would even choose to frequent. His desire is not to bring us back to a past where these lands can be GREAT AGAIN. Nor did he think it necessary to rip these lands apart at the seams in order to preserve them and bring back their greatness.

His thought was – and still is – to enable a place where we can all – everyone one of us despite our backgrounds – gather as many people together to share the land –and the infinite possibilities it evokes – as he could.

Well great, now I miss Mad Men even more

Funny enough, that’s the way he built the empire that made him rich. Not the other way around.

Final note: This person is listed as one of the top charity givers in the United States in the last 15 years with contributions in the many tens of MILLIONS of dollars. No other billionaire running for president at the moment is even in the ballpark.

Not even CLOSE.

Making America great again. Indeed.