Open Letter to My Busload.

The laziest measure of wealth is money. Sure, when you have money you have some security. When you have money, you’re able to acquire goods and services. You’re able to go places, do things, buy things. When you’re a little wealthy, you can do anything but not nothing. When you’re really wealthy, you don’t have to do anything.

I can’t do everything, and I sure can’t do nothing, but I am a very wealthy man. Just not by the laziest measure. By the most important measure, I am pet tiger, gold rims, personal chef wealthy. When I need a cabinet door trimmed, I know a couple guys. When I need help moving a couch, there’s a bunch of guys at my fingertips. When I need someone to pick me up at the shop when I drop off my car, I’ve got no need for Uber. When I go on vacation and need someone to feed the cats or stay at the house, I’ve got options.

And when it’s my birthday and I want to burn some shit down, I can put together a busload.

My friends (and my family) are the best friends (and family) ever. It was my birthday this weekend and, like every year it seems, I had a great birthday. In my most humble opinion, the greatest gift is having a group of people that enjoy having you around. And I am lucky, because I’ve got the best group. Of course they weren’t all there this weekend (I’ll see the rest of you soon), but even so, it was very humbling getting to venue #1 and seeing so many people that are so important to me.

My son called me last night, to say happy birthday and ask what I was doing for my birthday. I said, “I’m reading the cookbook your mom gave me and watching her play a video game.”  “Boring”, he replied. “Yep,” I said. But in my head all I was thinking was that on February 26, 2017, the day I turned 48, I started my day with the best gift. Knowing, with absolute certainty, that if friendship is the measure of wealth, I am a very rich man indeed.

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