Or, more cryptically, we are all going to die. Geologically speaking, soon. And in any respect, sooner than we'd like.
I told my dad that he was getting older, and that on his deathbed, he'll wish he'd have fished more. "Versus being a millionaire? I doubt it." he replied. Ok, so my dad would rather work more. But he is the lone exception. And I doubt that he was telling the whole truth. After all, he was talking to me, his son, and I would bet that he was just trying to teach me some Jedi lesson. He's a kook like that.
Maybe my generation missed the boat somewhere, 'cause I think there is a break from the old man's way of thinking. I know a lot of people who would rather scrape by and pursue their passions with their hair afire. I'd rather not work this entire week and go climbing as opposed to have an extra 500 bucks. I guess my dad makes more money than me. Or knows something I don't (want to know).
No comments:
Post a Comment