Five Song Friday: Ten Million Benjamins
Episode #143: Monkey Lovers, Poverty Pints and North Korean Unicorns
On Tuesday I received a check in the mail for one billion dollars.
That’s a billion with a “B.” The number one followed by nine zeros.
In economic terms, it’s what financial experts refer to as a shit-ton of dough.
Why did I get it? That’s not important. You can bet it was for something amazing that absolutely did not involve sex or blackmail.
I didn’t win the lottery or rob a bitcoin bank.
My album didn’t go quadruple platinum (mostly because I can’t figure out how to transfer the songs from cassette to the internet, but that’s beside the point).
I did tweet recently in defense of Elon’s belly chub. I said I found it refreshing that he remains one of the few tech bros who doesn’t feel compelled to “get ripped and swole like Jackman in Deadpool and Wolverine.”
Maybe this was his way of saying thanks.
Honestly, I don’t care where it came from. I now have a balance with so many digits that when I check it on my phone, the number takes up two lines.
Twice a day I call the bank just to hear the automated robot lady say “one billion dollars and zero cents.” Even she sounds impressed.
And she should, because one billion is a huge number.
Did you know that if you wanted to count to a billion out loud, it would take 95 years?
A stack of one billion $1 bills would be 67.9 miles tall.
And if your job was to roll one billion dollars in pennies? You’d probably just want to kill yourself instead.
But I’m not going to do any of that dumb stuff.
Being a billionaire is super dope and I wake up every morning feeling like a GD Master of the Universe (but one of the good ones like He-Man or Fisto, not a gross loser like Moss-Man or Grizzlor).
I see the world so differently now.
I watch TV like every channel is QVC. I can afford any car, house, boat or Senator I see.
Hell, I could even fulfill a lifelong promise to my 13-year-old self and reboot Riptide.
These days, when I leave a tip at a restaurant I know that I could change someone’s life by adding a few extra zeros. I don’t do it, but I feel good knowing I could.
Just how much money is a billion dollars? Here’s the math…
I could put my one billion dollars in a simple savings account and live off $4.2 million a year in interest.
But let’s say I want to go bigger with my windfall.
For the sake of argument, let’s assume that my financial guy is lower-case “c” conservative. A real scared-of-his-own shadow, the-sky-is-falling, wash-and-reuse-your-ziplock-bags fiscal coward.
Say that he sets me up with a painfully slow-but-steady investment portfolio that only brings me 5% interest every year (the annual average return of the stock market is 10%).
On $1 billion, that would net me $50 million every year.
Otherwise known as $4.2 million per month.
$962,548 per week.
$136,986 every day.
That means I’d get “paid” almost $6,000 per hour to simply exist.
Six grand an hour to wake up, feed the dogs and do a poo in the loo.
That’s ridiculous.
Forget mad money. This is stupid money. This money is magic.
One billion dollars means that I don’t have to work, wait or worry ever again.
One billion dollars gives me power over people, places and things.
Is one billion dollars going to fundamentally alter my humanity? Hell yes.
Will I look at every single person I meet and think, “If you’re not one of the 756 other billionaires in America, I’m BETTER than you?”
I mean, yeah. Of course.
I know that sounds terrible, but I’m so rich right now that I really don’t care.
ONE BILLION DOLLARS.
That’s SO much money.
Do you realize that my net worth is now 0.4% of Elon Musk’s?
I am now 0.5% as wealthy as Bezos!
Zuckerberg is ONLY 181 times richer than me!
I’m part of the club now!
BTW: Don’t let me forget to check my email for the invitation to the monthly meetings in Las Vegas. Apparently we all get together in a fancy hotel suite, dine on endangered species and outline our plans for controlling the country.
It’s like a Fantasy Football Draft except with poor people.
Five Song Friday #143
“Hell-Money-O’” - Willis
I don’t really know what this song is about but I like that it mentions monkeys more than once. Monkeys are the freaking best.
“Vengeance” - The Nips
RIP Shane McGowan. Here’s the man himself as a young and precocious punk with his first band (formerly known as The Nipple Erectors). Back in the late 1970s he was known as Shane O’Hooligan and all his early musical messing about (mashing garage punk, rockabilly and Irish folk) would lead him down a path to form The Pogues in 1982 and become the singer-songwriter that all the coolest singer-songwriters claimed as their favorite. This is what happened at his funeral.
“Ahjustwannadance” - Superthriller
Let’s not bother with getting to know each other. It’s hard to hear you and the light in this room is terrible. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just put these sequined hot pants to good use. See you on the dance floor!
“Disgrace” - SOAPBOX
Do you remember what it was like way back when you and your mates gathered your crumpled dollar bills and headed to the pub for the numbing sensation of a cold draft? You were at the mercy of money and desperate for a pint. You chased happy hours and specials, working the system to get more buzz for your buck. If you miss those bygone days of poverty and alcoholism, fret not my friend! This energetic little ditty from Scotland brings the past alive with loud guitar and a thick brogue bemoaning the rising costs of beer. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SIX QUID IT USED TO BE FOUR!?” Slàinte mhath, you filthy sots!
“D.R.E.A.M.” - Pharoahe Monch, Talib Kweli
As bad as everything feels in the world right now, nothing made me feel better than this bonafide ray of goddamn sunshine that proves all the good that can come when two hip-hop heavyweights take musical inspiration from Molly Hatchet and the Wu-Tang Clan and add lyrics like, “Dennis Rodman in North Korea looking for unicorns.” There may be hope for humanity yet.
“I’m insane. I’m fucked up. I have problems. But I don’t get depressed and I don’t get bored.” - Warren Zevon (Born January 24, 1947)
Thanks for reading!
Have fun. Stay safe. Don’t be a jerk.
Sincerely,
DJ CrankyPete