Late last century I stood outside a running rental car somewhere in the San Francisco Bay area and conversed in a 32 x 80 inch glass box the way we used to about 6 or 7 cellphone generations ago. The familiar voice escaping the grime of the filthy black receiver offered me a 45% salary increase and moving expenses to California.
Money can motivate many behaviors that are just wrong. Sometimes when loyalties are washed away by it, the rational is, “it’s just business.” People lose their livelihoods to money every day, and others lose their souls. Maybe it’s the “root of all evil” thing. That’s one of those cliche’s that get thoughtlessly thrown around, but you have to wonder if an evil like the one money can buy existed before the schekel did.
The closing scenes of the film made me a little squeamish, and given the current slimy turmoil sucking the life out a small nation of fans I belong to, one specific scene left me even colder toward our team. Money can crush the joy of otherwise wonderful working lives, destroy friendships and tear families apart. If we let it.
“You know I can’t do that,” was my reply in spite of the mind fuck the numbers rang up. There were a couple reasons a 2,500 mile re-lo was a no-no, and my children were the first one. Back then there was no doubt my decision was the right one. In hindsight it’s clear my rewards are far beyond anything money can buy.