Beach Bum

Had to put on some Beach Boys to get in the mood for this, so if I start singing “In My Room” forgive me.

With all the talk recently about the 1% of the rich against the 99% of the have-nots with protest and debates and blogs and comments in social network, I look at the financial rewards I have made through the years and wonder.

So there are a few rich people who have made a lot of money in whatever endeavor they pursued after school years. Some worked hard and climbed the ladder obeying the corporate laws and using their innovative skills to use the ins and outs of the business world to make a fortune. Others use their youth to grab the gold ring with sport skills until injury shortens a flash of fame. Some create their own celebrity in order to proclaim their importance. Fame is thrust upon some for their ability to create writings, paintings, entertainment shows and less so, intellectual findings.

Look around your surroundings and contemplate the wealth of your life on this planet. All the riches that give vindication of life shown to others with envy reflect on our self worth.

And yet we look at the great wealth of someone else and think they are getting away with something and should be punished for flaunting the opulent excess.

Indulging into purchasing items no one else could ever purchase, the 1% is also attacked by the paparazzi who want to capture their every move, hounded by every foundation and charity that pleads for assistance, and overwhelmed by entrepreneurs who show their wears and good hoping to get a marketing deal.

Do we really need the golden beds and marbled floors and multiple homes and fish eggs to be happy?

So I get to what I really wanted to discuss: being a Beach Bum!

If you look back at your youth, with little change in your pocket and few worldly possessions, life was simple and wonderful. The most important factor of your life was being around friends, sharing ideas, music and laughter. Discussions and debates of world events shaped the being without costing a penny.

In the recesses of the mind are thoughts of living on the beach, surfing or water skiing or sailing with buddies at the break of dawn then stacking shelves at the local drug store or sweeping barroom floors to get enough change to buy some cheap beer, bread and cheese to share around a fire and playing music until exhaustion took over.

So many names are gone, but at the time nothing else mattered.

Only later did we all get sucked into the consumption spiral of having more money that we needed for essentials only to squander it on material goods that television, radio, newspaper, billboards, and movies told use we must purchase and acquire to become popular.

The gold watch, the fast car, the big house, the fancy suit are bought only to find a new fashion hit the market ten minutes later.

What creates our desire to be the 1%?

The beach bum doesn’t care.

The pants might has a hole in the leg, or the shirt is a little dirty with yesterday’s lunch, the dust bunny running across the floor is caught in spider webs, and for dinner a cold can of beans is fine.

So maybe if we didn’t worry about envy and only care about what makes us happy, we can find peace in our lives.

I know, so many are saying we must survive, but at what level. Will the gold facets on the bathtub make us any cleaner? Will having a private jet exclude us from the adventure of traveling with others? Will having a yacht with all it’s maintenance and upkeep make it worth a few parties to impress others that don’t care who you are but just want to mooch your money.

I can’t decide for you, but I’ve found the beach bum was right for me.

Gotta go, surfs up!