The dumpster of bliss
A riff on wealth
Jamie’s studio was in an old factory district. That was back when artists and film types went to old factory districts. We didn’t do it because it was cool. We did it because factory districts were cheap. Cheap rent. Lots of space. Big windows. Lots of light. Poor heating. Lots of sweaters.
Late nights were spend padding around the rail corridors, or, breaking into and exploring abandoned buildings.
There was a toy factory near Jamie’s studio. The dumpster there was exceptional. It was there we found the Cylon costume. It was there we found the two bamboo katana that we’d whack each other with while ‘feeling no pain.’
The biggest delight?
The biggest and bestest delight never left the dumpster.
One day, we arrived to find it filled, three feet deep with metal ‘pogs’.
That was it.
A metal dumpster half filled with metal pogs.
It may as well have been Scrooge McDuck’s money bin.
We dove in and splashed around.
Think of it as a kind of Ikea ball-room - only instead of soft plastic balls, this was filled with sharp metal pogs. It was a bit sharp, a bit bloody and very very noisy.
It provided us with a wealth of delight.
I am certain that there are many like Elon, and Mark and Warren have a great deal of wealth.
But I’m not certain that they have had the wealth of experience that comes with an abundance of time, aimlessness and curiosity.
It’s like the old saying goes:
You’re richer than you think, it’s merely a matter of how you measure your wealth.