Who am I to tell you anything?

Work has never been something that took my life over to the point that nothing else mattered. Money never held much interest for me. Fame and fortune; well, I never had much to do with either, just enough to buy a home on the bluff, near enough to the ocean to escape the frequencies of life screeching in my ears.
When I left the safety of my surroundings, looking to find the other side of reality, I found most of humanity considered cash and the ownership of property conducive to their well-being. I’m not a fool; I understand this need for wealth, it is one way for a man to enhance the quality of his life; perhaps so that he, too, can have time to enjoy his family and the ocean. That said, let me go on to say that I doubt its pre-eminence. Time, health, a large human interest, sympathy and compassion, these things, surely, are just as beneficial to an individual’s life over the exchange rate for gold, or the value of his property, land, or marvelous works of art. I have heard it said, perhaps by a fisherman, that man doesn’t have gold — the gold has him.
The richness of my life has nothing to do with money. I can say this with utmost honesty. I have recently lived a lifestyle doing what I choose to do. Since leaving the brightly colored curve of Tobermory, I have observed the inequalities of wealth — extreme wealth and extreme poverty.
To this day, some men I’ve loved have never left the island, never seen the world, never talked about love to their children. Me, well I just went my way, called by the sea, learning that I could never have bought the things I love most.
We can never own great art; we can only appreciate the custody. So, think about this, before your time runs out, remember that your life is on loan to you. You do not own your next smile, it is a gift, use it to appreciate it. It is a priceless thing.
I was never a better man for having money.
I was a great kid. I could always be found up a tree, always in demand by other boys because they knew I’d lead them into mischief. I felt like the untidiest boy who ever lived, wearing scarecrow clothes, piling autumn leaves higher than any other boy in class. I grew up thinking that every new day would bring another tree to climb, more leaves, and everything would be special and grand and fine.
Which is why, being taller, (some might argue with the term grown up,) I have the greatest difficulty with the way men play.
Men, even those in privileged position, don’t play fair the way we boys did.
