Fabulous!
Fabulous!
I want to let you in on a lesser secret: my wife and I are trying to be fabulous! Not fabulous. Fabulous!!!! We don't need to be famous. I don't need to be the head of Google. We think we want a fabulous lifestyle. "Think"? As we close in on this concept, I looked up to the sky thought about the clouds. Wispy, maybe a kilometer across or more and able to blot sunlight from the land. Up close: they are almost invisible-- just vapour with more moisture. Perspective-- distance-- gives clouds their condensed and weighty appearance. Up close, what does Fabulous look like. As we close in on Fabulous, I would what it could look like.
My general plan: get Operation Fabulous off and running: something technically manageable but may require some work and effort (fun, fabulous work). The details I cannot share at this time apart from what we've already alluded to. If all goes well, in about 18 months I will likely post another rant on the other side of the singularity and hang a big "Mission Accomplished" banner somewhere. As for the logistics of Fabulous, Wifey and maybe my Mom and other people we trust would help us. I would likely continue to work. I am okay with working. I know that won't sound like the biggest dose of enthusiasm that my bosses would like to hear, but take work (a four-letter word) and add the most important job I could imagine me capable of and the end result is: "I am okay with working." If I do everything right, a chimpanzee and three trainees can do my job and then I maybe contemplate moving on. What programmers don't want: they don't want their job to be done so well that you no longer need them. I guess I'm not a programmer then. I'm a jackass with a computer. I want a computer system to be so intuitive that you don't need a degree-- even a fake degree. I want to do for web development what desktop publishing did for layout work.
So back to the question: what does a day in the life of the Fabulous look like? My Mom is going to officially retire soon (after a couple years of severance and EI). My father-in-law retired a few years ago (largely because of health). If we become Fabulous, what will our days look like? My Mom says she "putters" (WTF?). My father-in-law is locked in a life-and-death struggle with posting material online. What? Where? I think I don't want to know. He is also wracked with back-pain, so for him retirement is a neccessity, not a reward. My buddy, Keith, is on a pension and in his 40s. For him, life is Tim Horton's, PS2, hanging out with his buddies and occassionally scoring with chicks who end up getting more than a double-double. Three images of life-after-work and I don't know if I want any of them.
Would I go out for a nice lunch everyday? Yeah, like my stomach needs more restaurant food.
Would I help the needy? First question, would they forgive me for hurling insults at them?
Would I go buy a house and renovate it? Yeah: I've seen better houses after Katrina.
Would I be the guy always willing to help with a move? I am already. I'm a moving chump. Note the "U".
Would I write? Never the problem. Would anyone ever read it? That's the problem.
Would I get into trouble? Likely and that would be the most rewarding possibility. Giant sculptures of Gordon Campbell driving drunk into a schoolyard at recess. A ten part video series entitled, "Lunch While Wearing A Wrestling Mask." Joining the PTA. All dangerous stuff.
On Star Trek, Kirk seemed to beam down to planets locked in utopian bliss and wreck their society (like every second week). His excuse: "People aren't meant to be happy." My retort: "Screw off. Didn't you see that Spock could be giving Jill Ireland the business, right now."
People are meant to be happy. I know a couple people who are meant to be... Fabulous!
I want to let you in on a lesser secret: my wife and I are trying to be fabulous! Not fabulous. Fabulous!!!! We don't need to be famous. I don't need to be the head of Google. We think we want a fabulous lifestyle. "Think"? As we close in on this concept, I looked up to the sky thought about the clouds. Wispy, maybe a kilometer across or more and able to blot sunlight from the land. Up close: they are almost invisible-- just vapour with more moisture. Perspective-- distance-- gives clouds their condensed and weighty appearance. Up close, what does Fabulous look like. As we close in on Fabulous, I would what it could look like.
My general plan: get Operation Fabulous off and running: something technically manageable but may require some work and effort (fun, fabulous work). The details I cannot share at this time apart from what we've already alluded to. If all goes well, in about 18 months I will likely post another rant on the other side of the singularity and hang a big "Mission Accomplished" banner somewhere. As for the logistics of Fabulous, Wifey and maybe my Mom and other people we trust would help us. I would likely continue to work. I am okay with working. I know that won't sound like the biggest dose of enthusiasm that my bosses would like to hear, but take work (a four-letter word) and add the most important job I could imagine me capable of and the end result is: "I am okay with working." If I do everything right, a chimpanzee and three trainees can do my job and then I maybe contemplate moving on. What programmers don't want: they don't want their job to be done so well that you no longer need them. I guess I'm not a programmer then. I'm a jackass with a computer. I want a computer system to be so intuitive that you don't need a degree-- even a fake degree. I want to do for web development what desktop publishing did for layout work.
So back to the question: what does a day in the life of the Fabulous look like? My Mom is going to officially retire soon (after a couple years of severance and EI). My father-in-law retired a few years ago (largely because of health). If we become Fabulous, what will our days look like? My Mom says she "putters" (WTF?). My father-in-law is locked in a life-and-death struggle with posting material online. What? Where? I think I don't want to know. He is also wracked with back-pain, so for him retirement is a neccessity, not a reward. My buddy, Keith, is on a pension and in his 40s. For him, life is Tim Horton's, PS2, hanging out with his buddies and occassionally scoring with chicks who end up getting more than a double-double. Three images of life-after-work and I don't know if I want any of them.
Would I go out for a nice lunch everyday? Yeah, like my stomach needs more restaurant food.
Would I help the needy? First question, would they forgive me for hurling insults at them?
Would I go buy a house and renovate it? Yeah: I've seen better houses after Katrina.
Would I be the guy always willing to help with a move? I am already. I'm a moving chump. Note the "U".
Would I write? Never the problem. Would anyone ever read it? That's the problem.
Would I get into trouble? Likely and that would be the most rewarding possibility. Giant sculptures of Gordon Campbell driving drunk into a schoolyard at recess. A ten part video series entitled, "Lunch While Wearing A Wrestling Mask." Joining the PTA. All dangerous stuff.
On Star Trek, Kirk seemed to beam down to planets locked in utopian bliss and wreck their society (like every second week). His excuse: "People aren't meant to be happy." My retort: "Screw off. Didn't you see that Spock could be giving Jill Ireland the business, right now."
People are meant to be happy. I know a couple people who are meant to be... Fabulous!
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