WHAT’S YOUR PRICE?

I’m sitting in Chipotle (Fresh Mexican Restaurant) talking to a young guy about his stay in the United States. He’s from somewhere else. He’d rather be home in the somewhere else. But he’s here because people in the somewhere else think it beneficial that he stay here just now. He’s unhappy.

I saw a movie recently in which two men traveled across country for $40,000. I’ll spare you the details of the flick but needless to say they went through things I wouldn’t endure for $40K. On to real life, I’ve run into a fair amount of wealthy men in the last five years who have that “I feel like a slave” look on their faces. And I’m fully aware that us non-rich tend to apply these piñata like metaphors carelessly assuming that rich folk are without substance and character. I wouldn’t dare assume that. But the universal theme of being bought rears its head in professional sports if you’re ever close enough to look a veteran pro in the eyes.

I saw a man recently who makes good money playing basketball and he had the countenance of a man who had shaken hands with Tom Walker’s devil. He looked as though he felt compromised as a man, as a human and as one created for unfettered devotion to only one God. I talked to this man and marveled at how someone with my dream job dwelt in the tension of ultimate financial security and self-respect. As you recalibrate today, consider your price.