The Thousandaires’ Club

Everybody seems to want to go through “mid-life crisis.” You read me right: “wants.” It’s the excuse to buy a Porsche or a motorcycle worth more than a porch with a duplex attached to it. Even if it means you end up displaying gravity’s long-term effects on your mid-section. Then you let the banks convince you that all you need is a loan so you can drive your crotch-rocket straight into an actual midlife crisis. Not that I have anything against Porsches, except that they’re inevitably just as ugly as their owners, but I’ll save that for a different rant if & when I do decide to burden you with keyboarding my thoughts on the offerings from the motor world. So much for short, succinct sentences…

Coming back to the whole midlife crisis thing, (yes, it is a “thing” now) do we feel less accomplished if we don’t go through one? Is that why we want to be part of the Thousandaires’ Club for Mid-life Crises Sufferers? Do we think we sound cool when we tell our shallow “friends” that we’re going through the “thing?” the one that shall not be named from now on, except by the cool acronym: MLC (Pronounced “Em-El-Cee”)

Call it what you want, “Quarter-life crisis,” “Reinventing the self,” “Spiritual self discovery while wallowing in materialism,” whatever, but just get over it! Don’t let me hear about it again. Do whatever fills the void in your empty soul. Go buy your Porsche, or your motorcycle or, umm, start a blog…

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