Who would you gladly go into battle with?
For me, it’s my buddy Meads.
Meads is a mountain of a man. If you were attempting to hold a gate during a siege, he’d be the lock.
Meads the Mighty, speaks with a voice that reminds me of a distant thunderstorm. His voice came murmuring through my phone in a low rumble
Hey man, I’m out front. We doing this?
I was out in a flash, his blue beauty parked on the street in front of my house.
It’s a 08. It was bought new by a old lady who kept in in the gargage. It was sold to another old lady who barely drove it. She mostly kept it in a garage. Then? She sold it to my dad who gave it to my mom.
What did your mom do with it?
Oh, she didn’t drive it either. She mostly kept it in the garage too. It’s sixteen years old, I’m the fourth owner and she’s only got 40k miles onto her.
I smiled and laughed - women don’t seem to like convertibles.
Dude, have you ever driven in one? Anyone with long hair has instant mats if they drive with me. Women have no business in a convertible.
Dude, that’s really sexist, I chided.
Yes, I am very sexy, Meads rumbled in reply.
Meads and I have the same addiction: Business ideas.
We even attempted to sketch out a few ventures together. They were all far too complex requiring us to navigate complex social and status structures in order to get traction.
I’ve got it bud, the next one. This really could be it. This is the business that will kill it for us. Are you ready for it?
Without waiting for so much as a nodd or a grunt he laid it out for me in two words:
King Locust
We’ll become the dominant supplier of locusts and grasshoppers to the local feed and hobby market with our sights on expanding into human consumption.
Locusts? I wasn’t so sure.
Yaman. It’s cheap, clean, low impact animal protein. We have all the advantages of growing an alternative protein source with a low entry to market, easy to source, easy to develop resurce.
But dude, we’d be trying to sell bugs.
Bugs by the bag full, bugs by the bucket motherfucker.
Dude, that’s fucked.
Naw man. It’s not.It’s food. Everyone needs food. Besides, diets change. If you spoke to my granddaddy the idea of selling little slices of raw fish on top of a ball of rice for a premium, he’d have asked What’s next, swampland in Florida, or the deed to Hoover Dam?
I shook my head. He had me.
You know, you’re pretty bright, for a millennial. Your momma still sewing your name into your panties?
His chortle was picked up by seismic detectors around the region.
I still wasn’t convinced. Do you think we’ll really be able to do it? Do you think people will actually buy the shit? It’s a big task.
His response was an example of exactly why I love him so much:
You got to set the goals high. Right? If we try to piss over the moon, we’ll be less likely to piss on our shoes.
With Meads, it’s not his crushing physical dominance that stands out. It’s his outrageous optimism and determination.
Be like Meads.
Don’t piss low.
Aim high at least that way you’ll keep your feet dry.
We are not actually selling bugs but a better idea. If it works, y’all will know soon enough.