I wanna be a billionairrreee.. so freakin bad.. Let me just start out by saying how much I do not like this song. While I admire the young man’s ambition and desire for untold wealth, his plans for the loot I find lacking. He sings about about hanging out with Oprah and the Queen (of England?). Personally, a couple of older ladies are not my choice of company, no matter how much money they have. The cover of Forbes magazine? Who reads Forbes? I don’t think any of those people would be much fun to hang out with. What would I do with B-level wealth? To start, I need a car. For me, any of these would fit my needs: Ascari a10, Mosler mt900, Gumpert Apollo, Koenigsegg ccx, Pagani zonda or the SSC ultimate aero. These are all immensely impractical, exotic and expensive cars. They are deafeningly loud. They should never be driven on the street. But if I am a Billionaire, that’s what I’m doing. I don’t want a copy of another fancy car that any old schlub can pick up on the auto mile. I don’t want a car that anyone normal person would even begin to recognize. There are more famous and expensive cars out there, but I don’t want to drive the same car Simon Cowell drives. If I need 4 seats give me a Morgan EVA GT. It’s not quite a grocery hauler, but it’ll come close enough. I kind of want to fear for my life every time I think about stepping on the gas pedal hard. That’s what my money buys.
What do I wear in my crazy car? I need a mechanical belt buckle to hold up my pants. Check out the offerings by Roland Iten. I think you get two free belts with each purchase. They run about the cost of a new Camry. Why so spendy? It allows the big eaters among us to surreptitiously let out a little slack after a big meal. I’m sure it does some other things, but it’s cool. I need some pants –how about the 1880’s Levi Strauss & Co miner’s jeans? They have this awesome rivet way up high where the legs come together. I bet it gets real hot after a few hours sitting in front of the ol’ campfire. I wonder why they stopped that feature? These run about the cost of a 1st class airline ticket from Boston to Los Angeles.
But back to the car thing. Where can I really drive my new cart? If I’m near New York, I’m going to the Monticello Motor Club. For those really rich guys who hate golf for some reason, this is the place. They take care of your cars, offer instruction and even have five star dining. If I’m in Spain, I’m going to the Ascari Race Resort. Wait – Ascari – Isn’t that the name of one of the loony cars above? Yes it is. Turns out Ascari was started by a super rich guy who wanted his own car and a special place to drive it. Now we have both. Excellent. I am sure there are some other fun places like this, but I am not rich enough to know about them yet. If I am not feeling exclusive, I will drive on the Nurburgring’s Nordschleife. It’s very German and even *gasp* socialist, allowing anyone (!) to use it. 22 euros per lap and you’re off an running. Good times. Keep in mind that crashing your car will incur charges and if a timing device is found in your smoldering remains, your insurance company will most likely not pay. Something about discouraging people from timing themselves or something. Damn European socialists don’t want me attempting to time myself at dangerous speeds in a one ton carbon fiber missile filled with flammable liquid.
Now the only question is – where will get my billions? I recently brewed up a batch of homemade old timey gingerale. It was yeasty and spicy and super carbonated and mostly better than I anticipated. I expected there to be exploded 1liter soda bottles all over the kitchen, but explosions were nonexistent. I also feared some sort of mold or biological disaster and ensuing gastrointestinal distress. Thankfully this was also avoided. Now I was the only one to taste the brew – M wanted no part – so I cannot say if it’s worth a billion bucks or even if it’s worth the $.80 in materials to make, but one can always hope.
Maybe I can write a book? I’ve whined about my literary ambitions before. I’ve read some good ones lately – ‘Heat’ about a magazine editor who goes to work for Mario Batali. Let’s just say my suspicions about Mr. Batali and restaurant kitchens in general were confirmed. An excellent read. ‘A son of the circus’ not at all what I expected from John Irving, one of my favorite authors. Not bad, a little slow to get in to but worth reading. I have recently realized that some of my favorite sports bloggers are not actually good at writing, and therefore since I am not a trained writer either, I should stay far away. I will keep that in mind.
Why on earth would you leave your toothbrush on a public bathroom counter while you did your business? I understand mid-day brushing is important. But why the need to do all things at once. I usually bring my toothbrush in for a dedicated brush run and then leave. I don’t want any flying particulates on that sucker. I work with more than one person who likes to do a few tasks on each trip and there for get a mouthful of whatever is in the air tonight when they scrub the choppers.
The last thing I can’t get out of my head is how much Miami Vice influenced my life. We recently started streaming Netflix on our television and I found all the seasons of Crockett and Tubbs are available. I’ve seen a few current TV stars (Ed O’Neill - with hair, Jimmy Smits) with bit parts in the first few episodes that I’ve watched. This was appointment viewing for me when I was younger. I understand why my parents were not fans of this show – several people die violently in every episode. There’s drugs, sexy women, flashy jewelry, guns, smoking, explosions, childish temper tantrums and just about everything else a 7-12 year old boy could have wanted. Miami is full of wild accents and racing cars and over the top characters every week. I’m pretty sure it spawned a successful video game (GTA vice city) and launched the career of one of my favorite directors – Michael Mann. It even made the Colin Farrell/Jamie Foxx movie remake watchable, even enjoyable for me when almost everyone else hated it with a passion. Jan Hammer’s soundtrack always puts me in by vintage Ferrari and linen suit, running red lights and firing down lucky strikes with a .45 in my shoulder holster. If only none of those things led to an early painful death. I still have great respect for Don Johnson, even though people seem to regard him as a relic of the 80s. I love how Ferrari got mad that the Daytona used in the first season was a replica and gave the show a real Testarossa to be used, but only after the fake was ceremoniously blown up on screen. Despite all this, I always had a nagging problem with the fact that here’s this supposedly undercover cop, driving all over town in this crazy car, living on a boat with an alligator and every time he does a deal with someone they end in dead or in jail. He makes no effort to disguise himself when he goes in or out of the police station and yet not one of these criminals ever spreads the word about him. Despite all that I think the show holds up. And if I ever do get to be a billionaire, I may just skip all the racy cars and get a big ol 42’ powerboat and just roar around making big waves and rocking a ridiculous tan and giant gold watch. I know it doesn’t get any cheesier than that but come on, you know it looks fun.
