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Money Ch. 06

"Do you remember the Hare Krishna?"

Those weirdos, I mean, religious zealots, sorry, I mean, those annoying people who shaved their heads, wore long robes with sandals, and followed you around the street, the subway, the park, and the airport begging you for money.

Now that I think about it, they always had the hottest women, albeit a bit spaced out and hippie like, but nonetheless, the women they recruited were all young, tall, thin, shapely, and pretty. Moreover, none of them wore bras and you could discern their nipples through the sheerness of their robes. I remember being engaged in a thoroughly enjoyable conversation over their religion while enjoying the view of their tits that they sheer robes provided.

"Hare Krishna."

Back then, I thought about joining their cult to get in some of the pants, I mean, robes of the women.

"Hare Krishna. Hare, Hare, Krishna, Krishna, Hare Krishna."

Some Hare Krishna even turned violent until you relented and gave them your bread, dough, money, cash. I have to give them credit, they were a relentlessly persistent and annoying bunch of zealots much like those homeless guys who wash your windshield whether you want them to or not and get violent until you relent and give them want they want, a few dollars.

Only, I didn't give the Hare Krishna my hard earned cash, I gave them my fist. Ripping off the robe, pushing the beggar down to the ground, and stripping this zealot naked, I literally beat the crap out of that Hare Krishna woman when she wouldn't stop asking me for money. There she was pinned under the weight of my body and on the ground naked... Okay, never mind, that's a story for another time.

I haven't seen them in some time, but do you know where they are now, I mean, where they live? I'll give you a hint. Manny Remirez, the star left fielder for the Boston Red Sox, and who earns twenty million dollars a year, has his ten million dollar condo on the corner of this street. Give up?

The Hare Krishna have their headquarters, corporate office, church, temple, whatever you want to call it in a four story brownstone on the first block of Commonwealth Avenue in Boston. For those who don't know what the first block of Commonwealth Avenue is, allow me to elucidate to you what the first block of Commonwealth Avenue in Boston is.

It is the most expensive parcel of real estate in Boston, even more expensive then Louisburg Square where Congressman Kerry lives with his heiress wife of the Heinz Corporation. Kerry lives next door to Tom Stemberg who once owned Staples Office Products after buying it from none other than the presidential hopefully, the ex-governor of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney. Their ten plus million dollar properties pale in comparison to those on the first block of Commonwealth Avenue.

I figure the Hare Krishna house, headquarters, corporate office, church, temple, whatever you want to call it is worth about fifteen million dollars. That's a lot of scratch earned from begging for spare change. "Hare Krishna, Krishna, Krishna, Hare, Hare."

Henry David Thoreau needed very little money to build his cabin by in the woods by Walden Pond in Massachusetts and survived living off the land while writing his verses and contemplating his perfect transcendentalist society. Even though I admire what he did, anyone living in the woods today for that long of a period is weird. Can you imagine walking through the woods with your children and a Wildman emerges from a cabin?

"Come along, kids. Don't stare. Don't dawdle. Just run."

Nonetheless, Henry David Thoreau didn't need any money. In a word, albeit a hyphenated one, he was self-sufficient.

Theodore Kaczynski, the Unabomber didn't need money to live in his one room shack in the back woods of Montana either. (See, remember I told you, anyone living in the woods today for that long of a period is weird. You just have to think of Rubeus Hagrid from Harry Potter fame to understand my point.) He constructed his bombs and mailed them while writing his manifesto and murdering 23 innocent people. He was another person who didn't need any money.

Charles Manson of Helter Skelter fame wasn't after money when he murdered Sharon Tate, her unborn baby, and others in the Tate-LaBianca murders. He was too crazy to need any money.

Even when they invaded that home and raped that woman, the wild, fictional boys from Stanley Kubrick's Clockwork Orange weren't looking for money, as much as they were looking for bedlam and outrageousness. They were all crazy.

When those Middle Eastern terrorists flew our planes into our Twin Towers, they didn't do it for the money, it wasn't about the money with them. They didn't need money. They were crazy.

Crazy people are the only people who don't worry about not having any money. If you are sitting there worrying about money while reading this, it must be gratifying to know that you are sane, albeit poor. Congratulations, you past my little sanity test. Hey, at least you aren't crazy.

"Notwithstanding, do you see my point?"

Unless you are one of these crazy people, you don't need any damn money. The rest of us are spellbound, preoccupied, working two jobs and still not getting by, never having enough, getting further in credit card debt, and always needing and wanting more money.

The rest of us are bone tired, depressed, and slowly killing ourselves because we don't have the time to take proper care of ourselves with diet and exercise.

Maybe, instead of working all day, we should beg on the street. Who knows, one day, we could live on Commonwealth Avenue, too.

"Give me money! That's what I want. Money. I want money."

To be continued...

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