"The saga continues..."
"Dead Presidents II" – Jay-Z
On Thursday, August 22, I woke up to peaceful silence in nature beneath towering California redwood trees. It was the one year anniversary of my reaching the Pacific Ocean. The previous summer I had taken 100 days to drive from New York to California. I'd woken up at a campground in North Cascades National Park in Washington state on August 22, 2012, having just climbed and camped atop Pyramid Peak the two days before, and all I wanted to do was finish this journey and make it to the West Coast. It was a five hour drive, and during the final hour the state troopers had pulled over at least three cars for speeding, and tailed me twice. The second time he was right behind me, licking his lips, and I only had ten more miles to go to the ocean, so I put on Hiromi's "Place to Be," my theme song of the journey, and operated the vehicle calmly and coolly until I found a gas station where I could pull over and the police would leave me be. Shortly thereafter I arrived in Olympic National Park in Washington to see the moon smiling wide over the biggest body of water in the world.
All I had planned back then was to try living on the West Coast for a year and see what I found. I had a feeling I would live in San Francisco, but Seattle and Portland were also options. I thought I’d teach English, but that wasn’t the goal. Whatever I did, I had to resume writing and writing and writing, and what’s more, I had to start publicly sharing my writing. Hopefully I would start a book soon.
A year later I had indeed moved to San Francisco, taught English, written and written and written, publicly shared and even completed an impromptu book which I have yet to market. Maybe I would make a lot of money someday, but if that was going to happen I had to keep my focus on the quality of the story instead of the monetary or social rewards it might reap. After all, just a day earlier I had taught my class about The Beatles’ song “Can’t Buy Me Love."
Then again, achievement and success are natural parts of life. What did Huston Smith say those Hindus had to say about it?
The second major goal of life... is worldly success with its three prongs of wealth, fame and power. This too is a worthy goal, to be neither scorned nor condemned. Moreover, its satisfactions last longer, for (unlike pleasure) success is a social achievement, and as such it involves the lives of others. For this reason it commands a scope and importance that pleasure cannot boast.
India acknowledges that drives for power, position, and possessions run deep. Nor should they be disparaged per se. A modicum of worldly success is indispensable for supporting a household and discharging civic duties responsibly. Beyond this minimum, worldly achievements confer dignity and self-respect. (p. 15, Huston Smith, The World's Religions)
Self-respect, huh? Well, as absurd as it was to be waking in the woods, wondering where I would sleep that night, and driving over an hour to teach a class of international students in the city, I felt consumed by peace and very relaxed. I had spent the previous two nights in a bed at a couch surfing host’s home. Even though he was a masseuse enthusiast, he really stressed me out. It turns out that what I really needed was to sleep in a totally quiet space in nature, be able to go to sleep whenever I wanted, and not feel like I owed my time to anyone. The night before I had fallen asleep listening to Mogwai's “2 Rights Make 1 Wrong,” and I felt united with the loving spirit of the universe, the brilliance of simply existing, and how wonderful it was to be a breathing human with a brain and a heart. Even when it was over and I dozed off, I woke up again to feel that same glorious feeling. You can't buy that feeling, whatever it is. And no, I wasn't on drugs. My bank account is currently too small for such gratuitous graces.
It didn't take long to pack up my car and get back on the road. I enjoyed a very peaceful ride through the winding country roads before finally rejoining Highway 1 along the Pacific Ocean. The weather was overcast, so it wasn't as glamorous as it sounds, but it was still a great way to start the day. Then again, my car was completely packed with everything I owned, so much that even the passenger seat was overflowing. At least I didn't have to push a shopping cart along the highway to get to work. Being temporarily homeless is stressful, especially when you still have to report to work in a city where it is very difficult to find affordable lodging, but it's not even close to the real thing.
The traffic wasn't too bad, and I got to work only a few minutes late. The students didn't seem to care because it meant they could talk longer, or study for the vocabulary test longer. Later someone would explain to me that a lot of these English schools that hand out student visas are partially a joke because most of the students are just trying to hang out in America and attend class only as much as necessarily required by their visa. I have seen that to be true for many students. Obviously there are others who care, because they want to improve their skills at a very useful language, get into a college to further their career, or bring their skills back home to work in the tourism industry. So it’s not a waste, but I am speaking to an audience that is mostly thinking about socializing during class time and looking forward to when they can finally leave. That’s not to say we don’t have fun or they don’t show me appreciation, which they definitely do, but I have no illusions of grandeur about my post. Even so, I have this fortune in my wallet that says “any job, big or small, do it right or not at all.”
After a quick grace period for studying, I commenced the vocab test on the following words for our "Banking" section:
pay back, save up, settle up, fund, funds, finance, finances, fiscal, transact, monetary, deliberate, principal, balance, proportion, proportionate, terms, trend, venture, flourish, prospect, prospective, prospects, rather, bulk, graduated, odds, as a rule
I didn't choose the section because of my temporary annoying money issues, but simply because it was the next one in the book. The sequence of chapters led to them studying "Vacation" and "Housing" while I was gone.
After the test we did some grammar, and some other lessons I don't really remember at this point. But I do remember what I taught them in the afternoon.
When we came back from the final break, I handed out the most recent "News for You" articles that the school makes available for us to copy for the students' reading comprehension with respect to current events. It was a week old, so the headline was "Crisis in Egypt." We read about the violence over the transition of power, and then moved on to the lesson:
"Alright people, now we're going to do a listening exercise with two different songs. They're both about money. Does anyone know the band Pink Floyd?"
One person nods. "Okay. They're a rock group from England that was popular in the late 1960's and 1970's. They were influenced by many of the drugs that were popular with hippies at the time, and if you go down to Haight-Ashbury where the psychedelic hippie movement began, you'll see a lot of Pink Floyd shirts and posters in certain store front windows, or worn by wandering hippies asking you for money. Now there are two reasons we are learning about this band. The first is the name of the song we are going to listen to. It's called ‘Money.’ The second is the album this song was on. Has anybody heard of the album Dark Side of the Moon?"
Shrugs, blank stares.
"Okay. Dark Side of the Moon was produced by Pink Floyd in 1973, and it is currently the second greatest selling music album of all-time, in the whole world. Thus, they became very rich and famous because of it. And the fifth song on the album is called 'Money.'"
"Also, if you look at the album cover, you will see a black triangle that has a white light beaming into it, and then being changed into a rainbow. We call this a 'prism'."
Many "ohhh's" expressing recognition of a familiar word.
"And if you buy the album, you'll see that they actually have many pictures of pyramids on the album jacket, like the ones in Egypt."
"Ahhh."
"So look at the lyrics I printed out for you, and listen to the song carefully and fill in the blanks as best you can, and we'll review it afterward."
I play the song, a few heads bob, pencils furiously scribble, and then we review during the guitar solo.
Money, so they say, is the root of
all evil today,
But if you ask for a rise
it's no surprise they're giving none away.
it's no surprise they're giving none away.
"What you need to know about this song is they are very sarcastic. The 1970s were when rock musicians started to make more money than ever before, and deal with more fans than they imagined, and get more fame and pressure than they ever imagined. Pink Floyd was very sarcastic about the new culture of money that flooded their industry, even though they were the financial beneficiaries of the trend.
"Obviously, money itself isn't evil. It's just a piece of paper that represents work done or property owned that can be exchanged for material goods and needed services. You can't survive without it, because you need food and water, and even though you don't have to have shelter, homeless people live 20 years less than other people, on average. But the idea that money is the root of all evil is that all too often people get so greedy that all they care about is how much money they have, and then it clouds the good feelings they have toward other people and life, and those feelings are ultimately what make life worthwhile. Even worse, sometimes, the hunger for money makes people act in a way so that they don't mind ruining the lives and happiness of many other people in order to get more. If that happens to you, then it is certainly consuming your shining moon, which reflects the light of the sun, with depressing darkness.
Some of them nodded their head knowingly, others laughed at whatever it was they were seeing on their iPhone or Android or whatever it was they were addicted to like crack.
"Okay, that's enough classic rock music. We will jump to the modern era with our next song. But first, can anyone tell me what I'm holding in my hand?"
"A dollar."
"That's right. United States One Dollar. What do we see on the dollar? What shape is on the dollar?"
"... a pyramid."
"Correct. And where do we find most of the pyramids?"
"...."
"We JUST read about this place."
"Egypt!"
"Right. They recently closed the pyramids to tourists because of the violence in Cairo. Now let's flip this piece of paper over and see what we find. Who is this?"
"Benjamin Franklin!"
"Abraham Lincoln!"
"Bill Clinton!"
"....no."
"Washington!"
"Thank you! George Washington. And is George Washington alive or dead?"
"...dead?"
"Yes. He is dead. Which makes him a dead president."
"Ohhh. Haha!" (confused looks)
"Now who has heard of Jay-Z?"
(everyone's hand goes up)
"Good. Why?"
"He's a rapper."
"He's married to Beyonce!"
"Right. If you go anywhere after class today, you'll walk down the street and see a bus with an advertisement on the side, and you'll see Jay-Z's wife, Beyonce Knowles, telling you to 'Live in the Now' and drink Pepsi. I have reasonable doubt that she drinks a lot of Pepsi, but I don’t doubt they gave her many large sacks of money to tell people they should forget the future, drink Pepsi, and possibly develop diabetes. If you buy food you’ll see her on magazine covers, if you watch TV you may have seen her rolling around on piles of gold coins and telling you to buy cell phone plans, and if you dance in clubs she might cause you to move your butt in a way that will attract suitors and possibly help you fall in love. Or at least get some action.
“So the next song we're going to listen to is by Jay-Z. He wrote it 17 years ago, in 1996. It's called 'Dead Presidents II', and it's from the album Reasonable Doubt. Does anyone know what that means?"
"..."
"If you are accused of a crime, the government has to prove that you definitely did it, and when the jury decides whether you are guilty or not guilty, they have to be sure 'beyond a reasonable doubt' that the accused person did the crime. That means the evidence shows that there is no doubt, or disagreement, in their mind that they did it. And 'reasonable' means using your thinking power to decide based on the facts they give you, as opposed to saying, ‘In theory, aliens from the future could have come through a time portal and done it and then covered it up.’
“Anyway, Jay-Z named his first album Reasonable Doubt. Can anyone guess why?"
"...."
"What song did we learn about on Tuesday?"
"C.R.E.A.M.!"
"By?"
"...Wu...Tang."
"Right. Wu-Tang Clan. And what did they sing about selling?"
"Clack!"
"Crack!"
"Correct. And what did we learn about how Jay-Z made all of his money before he finally broke through as a rapper?"
"Oh yeah! Selling crack!"
"Exactly. He raps about it a lot on this album, and openly admits that he did it, because many poor black youths in the poor ghettos sold crack to either get by or get ahead. When interviewed recently by Charlie Rose, Jay-Z admitted he was so good at it that he did it far longer than he needed to to 'get by', and was very well off by the time he quit. He even thought that he would never become a rapper, and he was very close to giving up. He was 26 when he finally made this album and quit drug dealing. When asked about why he did it even though he knew it was ruining his community, he said he was a dumb teenager. When the interviewer pointed out that he continued to do it until he was 26, he smiled and said he was good at it. So this entire first album is about becoming decently wealthy by dealing drugs. And as bad as I'm making this sound, it's actually often considered by critics as one of the top two hip-hop albums of all time, next to Illmatic by Nas, which came two years earlier.
“So now we're going to listen to the song 'Dead Presidents II' by Jay-Z, from his first album. It's called 'Dead Presidents II' because his first ever single from his first full album was called 'Dead Presidents'. But then he wrote a second version which, in my opinion, is much better. It's probably the fastest lyrical song we'll ever listen to, so it'll be a huge challenge for you to fill in some of the blanks. But I tried to spread them out and leave half the rhymes in so you can guess more easily. And if you miss a lot, don't worry, we'll play it twice and then go over each line so you can learn slang and some interesting parallels with the history of American capitalism.
“Speaking of which, you’ll notice that at the beginning of the song Jay-Z says, ‘Roc-A-Fella.’ That’s in reference to his record production label, which is Roc-A-Fella Records. It’s very common in hip-hop to mention your record label as a promotional tactic to sell more records and thank them for distributing your work. Although he actually co-founded his label. Does anyone have any idea why he named his label that?”
“Rockefeller?”
“Exactly. There is a place in New York City called Rockefeller Center. It’s this enormous building owned by GE, or General Electric, which is one of the richest and most powerful corporations in the world. They own the NBC television network. You may have seen pictures of an ice skating rink surrounded by flags from around the world. That’s at the base of Rockefeller Center. There’s also a picture of a large god-like figure shooting lightning from the clouds and saying ‘Wisdom and Knowledge Shall Be the Stability of Thy Time.’ I actually used to work across the street during my first job out of college, when I was a banking paralegal.
“Now the reason it’s named Rockefeller Center is because it was founded by John D. Rockefeller, who, when adjusted for inflation, is the richest human being in the history of the world. He became this way by gaining control of 80% of the oil production in the world by the end of the 19th century. He got into the market right when it began. He also never smoked or drank, and wanted to live to be 100. He died at 99. Sometimes he threw dimes to people in the street as a joke."
I didn't mention this in class, but when Rockefeller was 86 he wrote:
I
was early taught to work as well as play,
My life has been one long, happy holiday;
Full of work and full of play—
I dropped the worry on the way—
And God was good to me every day.
My life has been one long, happy holiday;
Full of work and full of play—
I dropped the worry on the way—
And God was good to me every day.
Many people consider Rockefeller to be the purest symbol of evil greed and everything that is wrong with capitalism. But he did turn to philanthropy after fellow rich industrialist Andrew Carnegie led the way, and his donations to medical research eventually found a cure for yellow fever. Biographer Ron Chernow wrote:
What makes him problematic—and why he continues to inspire ambivalent reactions—is that his good side was every bit as good as his bad side was bad. Seldom has history produced such a contradictory figure.
Speaking of contradictory figures, the reason Jay-Z named his record label after Rockefeller is obvious: he wanted to make a lot of money, and he’s completely honest about it in his music. If you think about it, his selling crack is somewhat similar to selling sugar water: it makes you feel good when you ‘live for now,’ but then you feel worse after when the rush is gone, and in the long term the health effects can be devastating. But not for him. He claims he never used the product he sold because you'd have to be crazy to. And now he is one of the richest record producers in the world, is married to a beautiful, famous and talented musician, and has a baby child too. He even does charity work in Africa, and attended Barack Obama’s first inauguration. In fact, Barack Obama is friends with him and once said:
'Every time I talk to Jay-Z, who is a brilliant talent and a good guy, I enjoy how he thinks. That's somebody who is going to start branching out and can help shape attitudes in a real positive way.'
I said to the class, "It’s pretty hard not to know who Jay-Z is. Anyway, without further ado, here is 'Dead Presidents II':
(Nas' voice sampled as the
chorus):
I'm out for presidents to
represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent
me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead presidents to
represent me
The song's combination of sampled music is irresistible to my ears. It begins with a heavy beat sampled from A Tribe Called Quest's "Oh My God (remix)" and Lonnie Liston Smith's "A Garden of Peace" The beat really puts a lift in your step, and the "Garden of Peace" sample evokes images of shining crystals in an icy cave, or stars glimmering amongst an almost all-consuming dark sky filled with invisible energy. It is catchy, haunting and cosmic. It makes me feel as though I am once again driving beneath a crystal clear Milky Way galaxy, or walking the city streets of New York with nowhere to go within the spooky urban flow. I flashback to glamorous get-together's at my investment banker friend's high-rise near the Chrysler Building, which shines like a "trillion cut diamond." I see myself floating in a canoe beneath the stars, just a few safe hundred feet away from a cabin my grandfather built and stands sturdy to this day. I see Ivy League graduation gowns, music festivals filled with ecstasy and debauchery, and concert halls playing elegant symphonies. Then, suddenly, I'm waiting for the train in Agra, having just visited the famous "Temple of Love" that was built by 20,000 workers who had their hands removed by the Shah who didn't want them to ever build anything as beautiful, his sick idea of poetry. Then ten Indian children missing arms, eyes and legs beg me for food and rupees. When I offer crackers, the legless leader tells me not to bother, the hope drained from his eyes. Big surprise.
Jay-Z begins by citing his record label, Roc-A-Fella, and then says, "The saga continues..." before proceeding to rap at light speed with incomparable skill and flow.
Who
wanna bet us that we don’t touch lettuce
Stack
cheddars forever
Live
treacherous, all the etcetera’s
Till
the death of us, me and my confidants, we shine,
You
feel the ambiance?
Y’all
n***** just rhyme.
We don’t just shine
We
illuminate the whole show
You
feel me?
Afterward I showed the class the dollar again. “What’s this on the back?”
“A pyramid.”
“Who built the pyramids?”
“Slaves.”
“How did most African-Americans come to America?”
“Slavery.”
“Right. They were stolen by English and Spanish slave traders and sold to American plantation owners in the south. They worked for free under horrible degrading and tortuous circumstances for several centuries. They weren't allowed to learn to read, they were beaten regularly, had their toes cut off if they tried to run, and the women had that terrible thing happen to them that happens when treacherous men get their way with them. And that’s a huge part of why America became such a powerful economic success and mighty force throughout the world.
“Let’s look at the other side. Who is this dead president?”
“George Washington.”
“And who did he own?”
“Um…”
“Slaves. He also has more in common with Jay-Z’s lyrics than you might think:
Factions
from the other side would love to kill me
Spill 3/4 of my blood into the street
Let alone the heat...
Spill 3/4 of my blood into the street
Let alone the heat...
Hospital
days, reflecting with my man laid up,
on
the uptown high block he got his side sprayed up
I
saw his life slipping, ‘yo this is a minor setback, we still living’
For
now just dream about the get back
I
saw him smile but his eyes said, ‘Pray for me’
I’ll
do you one better and slay these n***** faithfully
Murder
is a tough thing to digest, it’s a slow process, and I’ve got nothing but time
“I don’t know Jay-Z’s personal history or how true his lyrics are. As for Washington, he not only had to lead men into battle, watch his comrades die and vow to avenge them by killing as many members of the rival British gang as possible, but also presided over hangings of spies and deserters to set examples. Even more gruesome, after avenging a loss to the French during his first battle by defeating them with help from Native Americans, he either made a tactical decision to let it happen, encouraged it, or realized it was futile to stop them as his Native American allies scalped and slaughtered French soldiers who had surrendered and begged for mercy.”
I
empty three, take your treasure, my pleasure
Dead
presidentials, politics as usual
“Jay-Z was almost shot once during his drug dealing days, but all three shots missed him. He later said in an interview that he believes ‘in the universe,’ and that some inner force always told him he would be fine during those dangerous days. Washington was very similar. He often rode ahead of his soldiers to rally them during battle, fearlessly waving his sword and calling his men to bravery. Cannon balls would land at his feet and he wouldn’t budge. Better yet, long before the Revolutionary War, when he was still a very young man, he was part of the British Army when they were fighting against France in the western frontier. He was constantly disrespected and ignored by his British superiors, which he never forgot. During one fateful battle, they were ambushed by Natives allied with the French, and Washington gained glory. His cocky general was killed, but Washington’s bravery earned him instant hero status throughout the colonies. Even though he had two horses shot out from under him and had several bullet holes in his coat and hat when the day was done, he continued to ride back and forth to relay messages for his army, however obvious it was that victory was impossible. He was also a very easy target, being such a large man. One Indian chief specifically ordered his men to shoot at Washington, and they all kept missing, causing the chief to exclaim that providence clearly had big plans for this man.
I’ve
had near brushes,
not to mention three shots, close range, never touched me
not to mention three shots, close range, never touched me
Divine
intervention.
A few students are in awe at the parallels, but time is up and most of them are just excited for the weekend. I apologize for ending the week on a dark note, and promise them that money isn’t pure evil as long as they don’t murder people to get more of it. And if they were in the military or somehow grew up in an environment whose only option for financial success was dealing great yet devastating addictive highs to their peers, then that’s their thing and I don’t understand what it’s like. Well, not completely…
_______________________________
After class I spent two hours on the internet feverishly searching for a place to sleep that weekend. All of the hostels were booked, and I couldn’t afford a hotel or even motel. Nobody had responded to my new couch surfing requests, and even the nearest state parks were at least booked on Friday and Saturday night. It was then that I got the greatest counter-intuitive idea I’ve ever had: I would actually save money by driving three and a half hours to Yosemite National Park.
Even though I had spent virtually the entire summer before in national parks, I hadn’t been to Yosemite National Park, often called the most beautiful place in America, in over nine years. It just happened to be my first national park back then. I was in college, on spring break with my friends, and visiting California for the first time. Certainly there would be gas costs driving that far, but so would there be to go to state parks 1.5 to 2 hours away, and driving around each day to find a new one, if they even had any vacancy. What’s more, those parks cost a minimum of $35 a night, and often much more. But in Yosemite, I could go wilderness camping for free so long as I registered with a free permit. The only question would be how early I could get there that night. It would be too late to go hiking and camping, but if I made it in time I might get a first-come first-served campground. Of course, when I called, it was too late to reserve for that day, and they refused to give me a forecast on my chances of getting a spot four hours later. After many calculations based on information dug up during my last available internet usage until the next teacher occupied my classroom at 4, I went to the Performing Arts Parking Garage to get my car and hit the road.
The traffic over the Bay Bridge was terrible, and even worse, I had missed one crucial direction. I forgot to write down that I was supposed to be on I-580 East for 50 miles, and instead had only written down the 0.2 mile merge from I-80 to I-580, causing me to think that I should barely be on 580 and should be immediately looking for the merge to I-205. Of course, this was 50 miles away, but the traffic and my misinformation was driving me insane. I drove about halfway the correct way before I realized I had missed the turn by a long shot. The irony was I hadn’t. I was supposed to just keep driving east and I would be fine. But I thought I had missed the road, so I got off the interstate once the traffic cleared up, and of course by then I found myself deep in east Oakland.
I had to drive a few blocks from the interstate before I finally found a gas station where I could ask directions. It turned out they didn’t have any maps to sell. I misinterpreted the directions though. The guys at the gas station told me that I was very far away from 205, causing me to think I had indeed missed it a long time ago. Also, I had to use the bathroom like crazy, but it was out of order. They told me Walgreen’s across the street had a bathroom, but that was out of order too, and the woman told me there was no way they were going to let a man in there. So I ran back to my car, laughed at the simple yet very uncomfortable cosmic test I was taking, and found a mall nearby. The bathroom worked, thank God.
When I got back on the road I went west again, and didn’t see 205. The guys at the gas station assured me 580 would just turn into 205. If only I could afford a smart phone or GPS, this wouldn’t be a problem. I eventually got past the Bay Bridge and started heading north to Berkeley, and I knew I had gone the wrong direction again. I had no patience at this point. I was exhausted physically, psychologically, and emotionally. Everything about my life’s uncertainty started to eat at me. I really wanted to explode. I asked the universe what the damn point of all of this was, and why they would send me to look for a road that wasn’t even there. That’s when I saw an enormous building that said, “Art.com.”
So I turned around again and pulled into the first gas station I could find. This time they had a map. It was getting dark, and Yosemite was still over 3 hours away, but I had nowhere else to go at this point. When I looked at the map, I instantly realized that what the men at the gas station meant was that I was still a long ways west of 205. I had been too tired to explain that I had been heading east to begin with, or they would have simply responded that I should keep going and I wasn’t there yet. But instead I must have given the impression that I had already come from the east, so they told me I had missed it a long ways back. Once again I had foolishly driven west when I was supposed to be going east. I got really angry at myself for being so stupid, wasting so much time and gas and energy, and being in this situation in the first place. I also couldn’t help but laugh at myself. I was too tired to laugh hard though.
Eventually the moon came out and I found myself racing east on 205, then 99 South, then 140. I was so excited to find 140 that I didn’t even realize it was the wrong one. Once again I made the absolutely ridiculous mistake of going west instead of east. I was clearly too tired and had too much going on in my mind to be making such a journey, but I had nowhere else to go. I drove 30 minutes in the wrong direction through complete countryside with nothing but county road signs, and nothing even telling me if I was on 140, let alone 140 West. At least I got to see Sullivan Road at one point.
It was when I saw signs for I-5 that I knew something was definitely wrong. I had already been on I-5. I realized I had been heading west again. I turned around again, and that’s when I really lost my cool. I started screaming at myself and tearing my ego apart more than ever before. “I can’t do this alone anymore!” I screamed at the heavens. “I know you’re testing me, and I suck! I suck. I’m ***** ***** idiot **** **** stupid ***** **** etc. etc. etc. (continue for ten minutes…)
After finally letting it all out, I felt much better. I had finally released all of the steam from the previous week’s madness. I felt like Henry Miller in Tropic of Capricorn when his loneliness becomes too much to bear and he just imagines manifesting all of his anger, and then once he does that, it escapes from him, he feels total peace, and he loves everyone in the world. The only difference is that I had directed my anger at me, and he had directed it at everyone else. Either way, it worked. The whole time I was yelling I knew that I only had myself to blame, and as run down and exhausted as I felt, it was all my fault. Who was I going to blame? The roads for not having any more signs to clue me in that I had made the wrong turn? Other people for staying in hostels and closer campgrounds so I couldn’t? The fact that I hadn’t made any close friends who could help me out in this situation, whereas I had more than plenty on the East Coast? The fact that even though I had met plenty of people and gotten along with them, including old roommates, that I’d just left and not looked back once I’d moved out? Who was to blame for that? The stars? Jay-Z says he believes in the universe. I could blame the big U all I want, but I have a reasonable doubt that that would improve my situation.
Somehow though, as crazy as it sounds, I didn’t feel like I was completely to blame. I know I chose these journeys, but in a way I feel like they chose me, for better and worse. They brought me the tests and the rewards, whether I wanted them or not. When I was angry or exhausted, it was because I needed to be able to handle and appreciate the next reward, and no matter how mad I got at how difficult things became, it was still going to forgive me and show me that it had done everything to bring me somewhere beautiful that was crying out for me to love and appreciate it.
Soon I was calmly driving the moonlight mile to Yosemite under the quiet country stars, and found myself in deep valleys lit by lunar luminescence, a glorious gateway which I had previously entered by daylight with college friends who were now successful and financially comfortable doctors and engineers. Here I was, the world poetry exploring sensei simply searching for a place to lay his head at night, piloting a car filled with his belongings at 1 am, on his own, engulfed in the mysterious madness of the multi-magical mind. Is that success or failure?
Of course, there was a sign at the entrance saying all of the campsites were full. It was already 2 am. Google had clearly lied about the travel distances, even when accounting for all of my back and forth driving.
Luckily there was a large open area 10 minutes from the entrance where I had noticed several cars parked away from the road, so I drove back there and parked for the night. I re-arranged my messy clutter of possessions and reclined the driver’s seat so I could at least get a few hours of sleep.
I'd come a long way from organizing documents in Rockefeller Center, sometimes staying up until 3 am to re-arrange hundreds of signature pages for hundred million dollar deals. If only I was still working in a field where we legally incorporated fake companies in Bermuda and the Caiman Islands so that Arab entities could do business with trucking companies that transported liquor--which is illegal according to Islamic law--then I wouldn't be sleeping in my car beneath the stars. I could still be filing Uniform Commercial Code documents to confirm billion dollar transactions with Japanese banks, and writing up collateral descriptions for nearly bankrupt enterprises who had no place else to turn than our client, who one lawyer described to us as "one step away from the mob. If you can't get a loan from anyone else, you go to them." After all, the money was good, and would have been even better if I'd gone on to be a lawyer. No, that would be stupid. What did that partner who earned several million a year tell me at the Christmas party? Oh yeah. He asked me if I was going to go to law school, and when I said maybe, he said good, because they'd have to fire me for being an idiot if I said yes. "The junior executives at Goldman Sachs just got $30 million bonuses yesterday! How do you go to work after that?!" Someone always has more. What did Huston Smith say the Hindus had to say about wealth, fame and power? Ah yes:
The drive for success is insatiable. A qualification is needed here, for people do get enough money, fame, and power. It is when they make these things their chief ambition that their lusts cannot be satisfied. For these are not the things people really want, and people can never get enough of what they do not really want. In Hindu idiom, "To try to extinguish the drive for riches with money is like trying to quench a fire by pouring butter over it.'
The third problem with worldly success is identical with that of hedonism. It too centers meaning in the self, which proves to be too small for perpetual enthusiasm. Neither fortune nor station can obscure the realization that one lacks so much else. In the end everyone wants more from life than a country home, a sports car, and posh vacations. (p. 16, Huston Smith, The World's Religions)
It wasn't just the legal job though. I found myself back in the McGraw Hill Building two years later working in radio sports marketing as a temporary assignment through another agency. Even though I'd run away to be in more artistic realms, the universe had brought me back to the same building which bore the name of the company which ran all of my standardized tests when I was a child and told me I was in the top 1%. Does that mean the Occupy Movement hates me? Roc-A-Fella y'all?
What about the makers of that 1970s film Koyaanisqatsi, based on a Hopi word that means "life out of balance"? It made that same building the evil climax of its cinematic visual interpretation of everything that was terrible about society. And I worked in that building and got paid and spent that money on getting by and unnecessary pleasures not once, but twice. Then I moved home from New York City to the country and got a job painting houses to earn money for a journey that began in India. I often climbed the ladder in the morning and then drove home from work listening to "CREAM" and "Dead Presidents II" to get pumped up for the otherwise tedious labor, reminding me that it was all for the greater good of a spiritual and physical journey that would improve my quality. I wasn't hustling in the ghetto, but it's not exactly easy to stand on a 30 foot ladder and scrub toxic mixtures to remove mold while yellow jackets constantly fly in your face and land on your arms. Everybody learns what it means to hustle in some way...
Had I done more good than evil since then? No one that I worked with struck me as especially evil... oh wait, two of my "superiors", now that I think of it. India says good and evil are part of nature, merely varying aspects of the same web, or something like that. Everyone structures everyone else, so you can't blame anybody for anything. Which is no fun, of course.
Whatever it was, good or evil, it was easier than looking for a new place to sleep every night. It's one thing when you're traveling in foreign countries or driving around camping with time to spare, but it's a very different feeling when you're struggling to make ends meet, your head and body aches from lack of sleep, and you have to sleep in your car on the street. Money starts sounding pretty good right around then, no matter how you earn it...
I was about to sleep when I saw a DVD of The Princess Bride on the passenger seat. It was then that I remembered writing the “Heroes” story months ago. The story was about overcoming adversity, being as adaptable as possible and being the best one can be so one can truly earn and fully enjoy one’s romantic love destiny. I wondered where was her current place to be within the cosmic symphony... I hoped she was far more safe and comfortable than me. As long as she was genki...
As I closed my eyes for the night, I recalled the traffic in Oakland that afternoon, and that one time where the line had completely stopped short and I had to come to a furious brake to 0 from 45 mph, and how I narrowly missed the car in front of me by inches, and luckily no one slammed into me from behind. Then I am once again seventeen, and I missed the deers but hit the telephone pole, and watched it snap off and fall to the earth, electric wires and all, in super slow-mo, missing the car by inches. I'm transported in time to the Quest van in Baltimore, riding on the highway, and then seeing the tractor trailer behind us slowly veer to the left, off the road, tumble onto its side and explode. I'm in a moonlit field in South Dakota, enjoying the peace and quiet when the bison grunts, huffs and puffs from ten feet away. Soon hundreds upon hundreds of vehicles in India are constantly stopping and going, braking and honking, repeatedly avoiding nasty collisions by tenths of inches. I'm at Bonnaroo music festival, excited to finally enjoy Albert Hoffman's magic elixir for the first time later that night, when a strong gust of wind detaches a pole from my neighbor's tent and misses my eye by an inch. There are so many terrible places and states of existence where I could currently be, yet I was still safely in the driver's seat.
Divine intervention?
When isn't the universe behind the wheel?
Instead of wallowing in a penitentiary or purgatory, I was about to wake up a few miles from the most beautiful place to be in the home of the brave and land of the free.
Stay tuned for Part III...
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