Two Dollars

Personal

We sat around the dinner table and easily poked fun, imitated, and sized each other up. In my family, only the strong survive, so if you’re going to talk, you better be the loudest and most opinionated. And right about now is when the Internet takes a collective sigh and thinks now we get it… Yes, I born into a tribe of people who MADE ME THIS WAY. Nature ain’t got nothin’ on Nuture, yo.

It caught a few of us off-guard when JD spoke into a debate regarding how people should spend their money. Normally the quietest of the bunch, JD is known for his keen ability to balance my loud…passionate…in your face lively family in public. He’s kinda like the Marilyn Munster in our Addams family. Two dollars, he interjected into the conversation, two dollars is what I want to die with in my bank account…if I die with more than that, I will have failed.

We looked at him in silence. Then my brother high-fived him and asked to be made beneficiary of his will. Beside the fact that my brother MISSED THE POINT ENTIRELY, JD went onto to explain that life is meant for living. Like, really living. Doing things that scare you and taking long lunches and getting lost in the Hollywood hills and visiting Japan before we’re too old to really enjoy it. If we die with a million dollars in our bank account, but didn’t live in the process of getting it, what’s the point? Who cares if we can say we have a million dollars if we’re too old to enjoy it?

Right about then I wanted to crawl over the table, lick his cheek, and claim him as mine. That man. He just kills me sometimes. After his quiet diatribe, I got to thinking. And thinking. I’m going to plan an adventure this year because I need it…I need to break my focus on safety, predictability, and living my life as dictated by my calendar. And somewhere along the lines I hope we can live life to the fullest, simultaneously be responsible, help others, and end up with, well, a little more than two dollars in the bank just before we die.