I was drinking my first cup of coffee, defogging my sleep-drenched brain, when I heard the radio announcer report that some young athlete had just signed a five-year, $20-million contract.
Wow! $20 million!
I ignored the "It's ridiculous to pay someone that kind of money to chase a ball around" trope.
Instead, I thought about the number. I have a hard time visualizing $100, much less $20 million, and I thought of the absurdity of anyone needing that kind of money.
How many houses? How many cars? How many...?
No one needs that much money.
But of course, money equals power, and power can be good or bad; whole libraries are full of books about the use and misuse of power.
I took another sip of coffee, and thought about the role of money in my life. I've been broke, and I've been fairly well off, but at the peak of my earnings, I never broke six figures, much less eight.
I had an interesting career: I married, and educated two children, lived in nice surroundings, ate well, dressed fashionably, drove a good car, travelled, and enjoyed myself; all without great wealth.
Did I do something wrong?
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