Category Archive: Full Monty

Part III: “Well … What Happens Next?”

We love anticipation and revel in excitement. Time seems to pass more slowly when we are waiting for something.

Anticipation can build so much that, sometimes, reality itself is disappointing. It doesn’t live up to the expectations we set for it.

Whether you have counted down the days until a loved one returned, took candy from an Advent calendar or ever sat on pins and needles for something, you have anticipated.

It’s an aspect of thought that is dominated by us. Outside of Pavlov’s dogs, animals don’t really enjoy the sensation of waiting (and I’d argue that his experiment was hardly enjoyable for the test dogs). But, we do.

This is also why Return of the Jedi sucked.

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Part II: Then … Where is this money?

Their names are in our history books: James, Dillinger, Cassidy, Bonnie, Clyde … The bank robbers of lore.

Their stories, triumphs and demises have been sewn into the fabric of our country and we have romanticized them in film and tv for decades. During their runs, most of us even rooted for them to get away. They were our Robin Hoods.

Their portrayal wasn’t always accurate, however.

Some of these celebrated criminals, like Bonnie and Clyde Barrow, were actually brutal and savage killers. Others, like John Dillinger and Butch Cassidy, rarely resorted to violence at all and really were the respected, noble men we believed them to be.Patty

No matter their method or madness, these sack filling bandits baffled police chiefs, filled headlines, and were bigger-than-life celebrities of their time.

But, this phenomenon was short lived. In only a few decades, outlaws went from being household names to afterthoughts on back pages.

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Part I: So … Where does money come from?

I remember it like it was yesterday … The moment I realized that I’ve had it wrong all along.

That sensation of stupidity overcame me; my face was hot with embarrassment.

Where I was. Who I was with. What was going through my mind. Everything about this moment can be recalled. Feeling completely helpless is still the most vivid memory.

It happened a few years ago during a discussion with friends. We were hanging out at my old house in the Upper Kirby area of Houston, TX, and were a few drinks deep. The alcohol started guiding the topics and we were soon talking about life’s bigger questions. One of those slightly-inebriated, deep conversations we have all had.

Somehow, money and banking came up, and my buddy’s quasi-hipster girlfriend (at the time) paused the conversation to ask a question. Little did I know that what she was about to inquire would cause my entire ethos to pivot — almost instantaneously:

“So … Where does money come from?”

masonic

It’s a simple question — with a simple answer. And no, not that type of deeper simplicity that is, in itself, complex. Just good old simple.

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