Having money is a joy.
Not for reasons of greed or power or controlling others. I’m not like Hillary Clinton, not even a teeny bit!
Having money is a joy because it allows me to give to others. To bolster businesses and livelihoods of others. To grease the wheels in free markets and capitalism.
I leave with cash after every driving shift delivering pizzas. Cold hard cash — rather warm tender — in my pocket.
It’s not a lot of cash. It’s mileage reimbursement plus tips. A good chunk of that goes directly into gas pumps. Another portion is simply bumping me up to minimum wage since, as a tipped service worker, I earn below.
Thus, in net income, I’m not sailing on the wealth ship. I’m barely even in the parking lot where that ship docks!
Still. There’s something truly gratifying about leaving work with cash in the pocket. Ready to be spent (or saved). Ready to give to others to support them, help provide them jobs and income.
Example.
The pizza shop’s a half block from an ice cream store. Not a store I frequent typically.
But after a work shift and with tip money in my pocket, a treat sounds nice. So I stop in often for a double scoop.
Boom! Right there I’ve helped the economy.
Boom! I’ve helped others maintain or get employment.
Boom! I’ve helped others prosper. By my prosperity, even if it’s just a little, others proper.
That is capitalism. That’s the free market doing what it does naturally, when government gets and the fuck out.
Politics, economics, socioeconomics, cultures, those are my passions. But I’m not going there. That post would never end!
Money is the focus. The power of money.
The power of money is the power to give to others, via capitalism (the ice cream store being a simple example) or charity.
Such joy I experience in giving to others. When my income can assist others to receiving or maintaining theirs, all’s right in my world.
I’ve never been super wealthy, with more money than I know what to do with. But I’ve long said that if I were, these things would and would not happen:
- I wouldn’t go buy a new car, fancy or otherwise. My 14-1/2-year-old Subbie is just fine! I love that car. I might buy a second vehicle, a Toyota pickup truck (for practical purposes that a Subbie can’t provide). But that Subbie’s going nowhere.
- I wouldn’t hire a housekeeper. I’m all about work and taking care of a space myself. It’s deep, it’s intimate, it’s personal, it’s a personal quality that ain’t ever gonna change.
- I’d have fresh-cut flowers in the home every week. And I’d have someone deliver them rather than pick them up myself — which, believe me, is VERY much my over-independent-receive-no-help-from-anyone-never-ever (thankoufuckedupchildhood) way.
The reason? It’d provide another person an income. A livelihood. A means of supporting his- or herself.
That is gratifying.
That is fulfilling.
That is joy.
Shine on you moneymakers! {sung to tune of Pink Floyd’s “shine on you crazy diamond”}
Allelujah, Arizona! 