The Pyramid of Idleness

Disclaimer: I want to apologize beforehand for the disparaging discussion upon which I am about to embark. The following comments are not intended to debase or belittle those whom I am proud to herald as friends, only those I am not.

An old adage states if it’s too good to be true, it probably isn’t. I rigorously apply this as my life’s litmus test. I evaluate nearly everything through its pellucid lens. My beautiful wife will tell you that my unremitting application of this principle has rendered my life (and hers) less enjoyable and spontaneous and perpetually more distrusting. Au contraire, I believe I have absolved myself of infinite heartache. Plus, I have as much joy in my life as I can adequately handle.

That said, I submit this undeniable fact: pyramid schemes are the transcendent fulfillment of the aforementioned adage. The magnitude of pyramid schemes I have alit on thus far in life surpasses the bounds of my comprehension (which I believe to be nearly boundless, right dear?). The latest absurdity was recounted by a close friend (S), who experienced precious hours of his life that can never be recovered tragically trifled away under the guise of “if you ever need legal assistance”. The scheme: “pre-paid legal”. The prodigious price of $29 a month for the rest of your natural life provides the peace of mind that legal counsel is but a phone call away (of course it’s a phone call away anyway). The pitch: in our litigious society you never know when you might be sued or need to sue someone else. On top of that “too good to pass up deal” if you sign up other gudgeons for their $29 until death fee, you take an allotment of their monthly payments. S was actually told that this was the way to realize the American dream. What dream, you ask? According to the sales pitch (I am not making this up), sleeping late, drinking coffee around the house until noon, all while making money and not lifting a finger.

I love this country, its founding principles, and the freedom it affords me, freedom bought with the blood of our forefathers. Today, those same forefathers are kicking themselves from the grave because they didn’t have a chance to latch on to the “true American dream”. All those cold nights shivering in a tent on the battlefield, knowing that tomorrow would be their last day on earth, fighting for freedom. All the while they could have stayed home, slept late, and watched the money roll in. They should have started a prepaid British eradication program: pay $29 a month and you can dispose of as many Brits as you want, but only between the hours of 12 PM and 5 PM; it’s the American dream. Wake up America! This country wasn’t founded with pyramid schemes of getting rich but with toil, blood, sweat, and determination. Our society is where it is today because people are downright fainéant. Get off your bums and get to work! And no, work doesn’t include having me over to your house to tell me how to earn $1 million by age 30 while sleeping until noon. If you are selling something, I don’t want any and unless your pyramid scheme is a plan for us to all take a trip to Egypt, leave me alone. If you’re involved in a pyramid business now, get out while you can; you’ll be better for it in the long run. Trust me, by this time, your friends dread you coming around because you are always trying to plug them in at the base of your pyramid. That is, if you have any friends left at all. Pursue the true American dream: hard, honest work leads you to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” I will now field exegesis from all those I’ve offended and hope to have a few friends left after this musing. Until next time…

The Magnetism of Gullibility

It’s been over a month since my last entry. I offer my apologies to each and every one of you. While I wish I could say I had a legitimate and worthy excuse such as finishing up a PhD (congrats JB), I cannot; therefore, I will simply apologize and press on.

This weekend, we spent two beautiful days out of doors selling my lovely bride’s artwork at the Chappell Hill Bluebonnet Festival. Attending these festivals as a vendor renders us time to people-watch, ponder the meaning of life, and muse about various and as sundry important items. Unless, you happen to be located next to the man who invented magnetic jewelry.

Now, I’m all for commerce, free trade and creative advertising. The American dream is to come up with an idea, make a product that no one else makes, products that appeal to a market, and then get rich selling it to those who just can’t live without it. Mr. Lunez’ magnetic jewelry went way past the American dream. It was our weekend nightmare. Uninvited, Mr. Lunez regaled us with his story: he invented the idea of magnetic jewelry 12 years ago when he asked the Chinese if they could put magnets in his jewelry stones. Since then, everyone has copied him and therefore, anyone who sells magnetic jewelry is one of his “disciples”. (I can’t make this stuff up; my wife will vouch for its veracity.) All weekend long, primarily those north of 65 years old, stopped by the table to hear Mr. Lunez tout the medicinal benefits of magnetic jewelry. Wear it on your ankle, your wrist, your neck, your finger, basically anywhere you have pain and you will find relief and healing. One by one, patrons shelled out $5 for a bracelet that would heal them. Given the amazing healing power of this jewelry, the medical industry must be reeling from the economic impact. Why pay $50K for surgery when for $50, I can position magnets from head to toe and heal everything from bunions to brain tumors? Mr. Lunez informed us that he even cured cancer in himself in 21 days through the use of magnets and other non-medical methods. I’m sure the unemployment office line this morning is filled with oncologists applying for assistance. Mr. Lunez didn’t stop there…he also forever changed our way of life when he educated us with this nugget: Americans have so many tumors and such a high rate of cancer because they drink bottled water. The water in the plastic bottles absorbs toxins from the plastic, leading to numerous medical problems. I found it hard to take him seriously though; he sipped beer from a plastic cup while giving me this noteworthy advice. The alcohol in the beer must quell the toxins and if Americans would just drink more beer…I’m getting started right away. Just kidding mom!!

Anyway, all this caused me to muse just how gullible the American people have become. Mr. Lunez must have made $500 this weekend, basically selling magnets that are strung together. They certainly didn’t have much aesthetic appeal, nor are they particularly fashionable. His selling point strictly was their health benefits and people lined up to plunk their money down. I guess the moral of the story is: it’s not about the product you invent…it’s about how good of a story you invent to sell the product.